


Back Into The Fray

by Adrasos



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Companions, F/M, Rating May Change, Stormcloak Victory, after the war, past relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-03-28 01:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 23,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13893645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrasos/pseuds/Adrasos
Summary: After a brutal war, the Empire has been driven out of Skyrim. With the Thalmor certainly watching, Skyrim is in desperate need of a strong leader. As the Jarls are called for a moot, Ulfric needs the Dragonborn by his side.The only problem is that she's happily retired.





	1. Recall

Arva looked up from her book when the sound of a dog barking reached her ears. A fire burned lowly next to her, casting the room in a warm glow. Frowning, she stood from her chair and walked towards the front door of her small farmhouse. She pulled open the door and stepped outside into the morning air, the sun sitting low in the sky. Arva's estate was modest, a small wooden farmhouse sat on a small hill overlooking a lake. She could afford something much more grand in Solitude or Windhelm, but the aftermath of the rebellion had left her craving peace and quiet. Her dog stood on the path leading down the hill, growling lowly while looking towards the main road which lead to Riverwood. 

''What is it now Ragnar?'' Arva asked, smiling lightly at her closest friend. ''Are the rabbits making fun of you?'' He barked again, before Arva's ears picked up the faint sounds of multiple horses approaching. ''Ragnar, axe. Now.'' She lost her smile as Ragnar dashed inside the house. He soon returned with a steel battleaxe, wagging his tail. Arva knelt down next to him and retrieved the axe from his mouth. ''Good boy.'' She said, scratching him behind the ear before straightening once again, blue eyes scanning the road.

A squadron of Stormcloak soldiers appeared at the treeline, dismounting their horses. Arva counted eight. Seven began walking up the path towards her, while one minded the horses. She rested the axe on her shoulder while she waited, Ragnar at her side. Arva's blonde hair framed her face down to her shoulders in thick waves, dancing lightly in the breeze. She wore a simple white shirt, with tight fitting leather trousers leading into well worn leather boots. At the age of twenty four, Arva had defeated the dragon threat. One year later, after a long and bloody fight, the Empire had been driven out of Skyrim with her help. She'd been happily retired for six months, books and hunting replacing battles and deaths. As a result, the sight of the Stormcloaks marching towards Arva's home was causing anger to start simmering in her veins. Galmar Stone-fist lead them, stopping before Arva and nodding. 

''Stormblade.'' He greeted in a gruff voice, nodding.

''If you're lost Galmar, I can help point you back towards Windhelm.'' Arva responded, before glaring at the soldiers. ''You lot, fuck off back to your horses.'' They exchanged worried glances, before looking towards Galmar, who nodded. They hastily retreated back down the hill, Galmar shaking his head and looking back at Arva. 

''Did you have to scare them like that?'' He sighed, a frown breaking out on his face. 

''It's been months since I've scared anybody, couldn't resist.'' Arva frowned back. ''Now, what do you want?'' She handed the axe back to Ragnar, who took it in his mouth happily with a wagging tail. 

''You've been ignoring your mail.'' Galmar said, crossing his arms. 

''And let me guess, Ulfric was worried for me, so sent you all to make sure i'm safe. How sweet of him. Well as you can see, i'm perfectly fine, so you can get back on your horse and gallop away.'' 

''What, not even going to invite me in for some dinner?'' Galmar asked. ''I'm hurt.''

''Yeah, and i'll hurt a lot more than your feelings if you stay here much longer.'' Arva said. 

''I'm getting old, but I could still kick your behind back into Sovengarde.'' The pair glared at each other for a few seconds, before breaking out in laughter. ''Good to see you girl.'' Galmar chuckled, before Arva wrapped her arms around him in a hug. 

''You too old man.'' She smiled, releasing him and becoming serious. ''What does he want?'' 

''The moot is near, we need you back in the fold.'' Galmar said. 

''Why, Ulfric not feeling confident with his chances?'' Arva scoffed. 

''Of course he is, but the Empire and Thalmor will be watching, we need to look strong. The Jarls are a fickle lot, and if it goes wrong we could have another civil war on our hands.'' 

''So where do I come in?'' 

''Just stand there and glare at anyone who thinks of voting against him.'' Galmar said. ''Then you can scurry back under a rock. You've earned an early retirement in my eyes.'' 

''Ulfric won't see it that way. I'll do this, then he'll need help with something else, then something else, and i'll never leave.''

''I won't let it come to that.'' Galmar placed a hand on her shoulder. ''Do this, and we've finally won.''

''Fine.'' Arva sighed. ''Tell me when and where the moot is and i'll be there.''

''It's in a couple of weeks, but he wants to see you now.'' He said apologetically. 

''Why, is he scared i'll mess up my lines during the moot?'' She rolled her eyes. ''Is he holding rehearsals?'' 

''Just come to Windhelm with us girl, you'll give me a heart attack at this rate.'' Galmar sighed. 

''Fine, I'll follow you down tomorrow, I've just got to gather some things.''

''You're definitely coming?'' 

''Aye, now get lost.'' She said. Galmar nodded, then turned to return to his men.

''Travel safe.'' He called over his shoulder. ''I hope you haven't forgotten how to handle yourself.''

''Worry about yourself old man!'' She shouted after him before walking back towards her house. She entered with Ragnar, locking the door behind herself. ''Looks like we're going back boy.'' She said to Ragnar, who whined slightly. ''Oh, shut up. You're getting a bit tubby, could use the exercise.'' He barked indignantly. Chuckling, Arva moved to the middle of the room and lifted the bearskin rug, revealing a trap door. She opened it, then descended the wooden steps into the cellar.

Summoning a small flame in her hand, Arva lit a torch on the cellar wall to lift the gloom. In the center of the cellar stood an armour stand, holding her Blades armour. The matching shield and sword hung behind the armour on the wall, and Arva stepped forward to remove the blade and unsheathe it. She stared at her reflection in the blade, dark thoughts soon looming. How many men and women had looked into those blue eyes before being struck down? How many sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, uncles? Thousands had died in the rebellion, Legion and Stormcloak alike.

A warm, wet feeling on her hand made Arva snap out of her daze, looking down to see Ragnar licking her fingers. Her friend looked up at her in concern, ears flat against his head. Arva smiled at him, sheathing the blade and hanging it back up on the wall. She crouched next to Ragnar and wrapped her arms around him, while he licked her cheek once. ''Thanks boy. Now let's pack some things, and i'll get you a sweet roll.'' He barked excitedly and sprinted up the steps. Arva glanced at her sword one more time before following.


	2. On the road

The next afternoon, Arva approached the Whiterun gates with Ragnar at her side. The pair had set off just before dawn, and had encountered no trouble on the road. The guards at the gate instantly recognised her armour and stared with slack jaws. Arva pretended not to notice. Her helmet and shield were slung across her back, along with a travelling pack, while her sword sat sheathed at her hip. Inside the city, the captain manning the gate approached. 

''State your name, and the reason for your visit.'' He began as he looked down at a clipboard, freezing when he looked up at her. ''Oh, apologies Stormblade...'' 

''It's fine, just popping in.'' Arva said, and the Captain nodded in relief before walking away. 

''Come on boy, let's go and see Lydia.'' She said, and Ragnar barked happily. Breezehome looked the same as the day she had bought it, and as she opened the door the familiar smell made her smile slightly. She had officially handed over ownership to Lydia, who still insisted that it belonged to her Thane, stubborn as she was. The Housecarl in question soon appeared in the living room, fully armored with a sword drawn. 

''Oh, I wasn't expecting you my Thane.'' Lydia said, sheathing her sword. 

''Still calling me Thane?'' Arva raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. ''Ragnar, kill.'' She said, and Ragnar launched forward, tackling Lydia to the ground. The Housecarl yelped as she was driven to the floor, Ragnar proceeding to relentlessly lick her face. 

''Agh, get off me you big sap.'' Lydia pushed Ragnar off her, then sat up. The dog barked happily, and Lydia sighed as a smile broke out on her face. She gave his head a pat before looking up at Arva.

''Getting sloppy Lydia, I might need a new Housecarl at this rate.'' Arva chuckled, walking forward and offering her hand. 

''In your dreams.'' Her Housecarl scoffed, taking her Thane's hand and standing. ''It's not my fault you decided to run into the country and live like an old woman.'' Arva laughed and grasped Lydia's forearm tightly. 

''Good to see you Lydia.'' She said, and her Housecarl squeezed back tightly. 

''Aye, good to see you too Arva.'' Lydia dropped the formalities, her friendship with her Thane too strong to follow the rules. ''What's brought you out of hiding?'' 

''The moot is in a couple of weeks. Ulfric wants me back in the fold.'' Arva explained as she sat at the table, Lydia taking the seat opposite. 

''You're following orders for once?'' Lydia's eyebrows shot up.

''No, Galmar convinced me. I don't see the old man much anymore so I thought i'd pop in.'' Arva shrugged. ''Then it's back to retirement.'' Her Housecarl nodded, recalling the father/daughter relationship the pair had. At the start of the war, Galmar had hated Arva, as she usually refused to follow orders to carve her own path. Arva in turn had hated Galmar, as the stubborn old General expected the troops under his command to be completely obedient. As time went on, Galmar had began to admire Arva's rebellious streak, as she was extremely effective at using unorthodox tactics to achieve victory. Arva also warmed up to Galmar, who wasn't nearly as gruff as he made himself out to be. The old bear loved his country, and pushed his troops hard because he wanted the best for them. 

''You're not going to leave me out of this are you?'' Lydia asked. ''I need to hit something. I've already cleared all of the bandits from the hold, and the bastards haven't had the spine to come back.'' 

''I should've known you'd get bored of the quiet life.'' Arva smiled, shaking her head. ''Don't worry, I came here to fetch you. It'll be just like the old days. You, me and Ragnar.''

''Thank Talos.'' The Housecarl practically jumped from her seat and bolted up the stairs. ''I'll grab some supplies, I need to get out of this hold.''

''I didn't put you in prison, I gave you a house!'' Arva called after her. 

''Same thing!'' Lydia shouted from upstairs. Arva chuckled and looked at Ragnar, who sat next to her. ''Unlike you, Lydia doesn't like long sleeps and sweetrolls.'' She said, and Ragnar huffed, looking away. ''Don't worry, we'll be back home in a week. Then you can have all the sweetrolls you want.'' He barked happily, tail wagging. ''That's if Lydia doesn't kidnap me into the wilds for more adventures...'' 

* * *

The two day journey to Windhelm hold was tough for Arva. While she had maintained a good level of fitness hunting regularly around her home, trading regular hot meals and a double bed for rations and a bedroll had proven to be harder than expected. The conditions here were also more extreme, blizzards and ice replacing flat green fields.

''It wasn't always this hard was it?'' Arva asked Lydia one night as they camped in a small cave. ''Talos, I miss my bed.''

''Too many sweetrolls.'' Lydia grinned as she tended to the fire. ''You're just as bad as Ragnar.'' In response, the dog whined and looked at Arva. 

''She's got us there.'' Arva shrugged, and Ragnar wagged his tail. They turned in for the night, rising early the next morning to reach Windhelm just before mid afternoon. The group had encountered no trouble on their journey, for which Arva was grateful. She wasn't quite ready to unsheathe her sword again. As they crossed the bridge leading into the city, guards recognised Arva and stopped to stare, and Lydia noted how her Thane's jaw clenched. Arva had never enjoyed the fame that came with her birthright, preferring to read books and keep to herself. Arva groaned when she recognised Jorleif waiting at the gates. ''Can't I have five minutes to myself before I have to put up with politics?'' She griped. 

''Dragonborn.'' The steward greeted. ''Jarl Ulfric is expecting you.'' 

''I'm sure he is.'' Arva rolled her eyes. ''Give me a moment to get settled in, then i'll go and see him.'' 

''He insisted that you see him right away.'' 

''Well that's tough, because I was pulled out of my nice and comfortable retirement for this shit. I do things my way, or I go straight back home.'' Arva ranted, and Lydia smiled at how the steward squirmed under her glare.

''I will inform the Jarl that you will see him shortly.'' Jorleif said, practically running through the gates. 

''Well, at least you still know how to pretend being scary.'' Lydia chuckled. ''I think he made a mess in his trousers.'' 

''Hush you.'' Arva smiled. ''If people know i'm not actually mean, they'll start trying to talk to me.'' They made the short journey to Candlehearth Hall, booking two rooms. Arva entered her room, then turned to Lydia. ''I'm having a nap. Wake me up in a couple of hours.'' 

''That's going to piss Ulfric off.'' Her Housecarl warned. 

''Counting on it.'' Arva winked, closing the door then looking down at Ragnar. ''I can't wait to see the look on his face.''


	3. Hero's welcome

Arva awoke to Knocking at her door. ''What?'' She barked groggily as she raised her head off of the pillow, Ragnar stirring at her feet. The hound flopped unceremoniously onto the floor, instantly falling into slumber once again. 

''Jorleif is back. He's insisting that you see Ulfric right away, and that it's important.'' Lydia explained through the door.

''How long have I been asleep?'' Arva yawned. 

''Half an hour.'' 

''What?'' 

''They're really impatient.'' Lydia said. ''Seems like there's some commotion at the palace.''

''I'll show them fucking impatient.'' Arva growled as she dressed. She pulled the door open, wearing leather trousers and boots, along with a simple white cotton shirt. 

''Is that anyway to meet a Jarl?'' Lydia raised an eyebrow at her Thane's unbrushed hair and common attire. 

''All I wanted was a couple of hours rest.'' She griped, turning to her dog. ''Ragnar, get moving you lazy skeever.'' The dog didn't move. ''Lazy bastard.'' 

''I know what will work.'' Lydia smiled. ''Sweetroll!'' She then shouted, and Ragnar almost jumped out of his fur as he launched to all four paws. 

''Enough nap time, let's get moving.'' Arva said, leading the way out of the inn through the grey streets. The Palace Of Kings was as drab as the last time Arva had seen it, and she groaned internally as she approached the great doors.  _'Why did I ever agree to this?'_ She faltered mid step when she saw Jorleif waiting for her, then fixed him with a glare. 

''Dragonborn, it is good that you are finally here.'' The steward said, running a disapproving look over Arva's attire. ''I will announce you to the hall.'' 

''I'll announce myself, now move.'' Arva snapped, her already dwindling patience growing shorter by the second. 

''But...'' 

''Don't care.'' Arva barged past him and pushed through the great wooden doors harshly, freezing as a hundred pair of eyes turned to land on her. The normally empty hall was packed with guests, most dressed in finery, all of which had fallen silent upon her entrance. 

''Stormblade Arva Jalder, Dragonborn, Thane of Windhelm and Whiterun.'' Jorleif announced from behind her. 

''One of these days Jorleif.'' Arva growled lowly, finally moving into the hall flanked by Ragnar and Lydia. The crowd parted for her as she walked through, everyone openly staring. Lydia scanned the crowd, her training kicking in. Most appeared slightly afraid, as Arva held a fierce reputation. Some women glanced distastefully at Arva's peasant attire, scoffing at the simplicity. Most men on the other hand gazed lustfully at Arva, her pretty features still intact after the war. During retirement Arva had grown her hair down to her shoulder blades, and while she had maintained her athletic physique she had lost the slightly starved and gaunt look of war time. Regular meals and long days sat by the fire meant that soft curves had started to replace solid muscle. Lydia noticed that Jarl Ulfric himself was one of such men, as he gazed admirably at Arva as she approached the base of the throne. 

''Dragonborn.'' He greeted, smiling. 

''Jarl Ulfric.'' Arva replied stiffly. ''I take it this little gathering is just one big coincidence?'' She asked as she looked behind her. ''It's funny how all these people decide to have a party here the moment I come back.'' 

''Are the people not allowed to welcome their hero?'' Ulfric raised an eyebrow. 

''No.'' 

''Still as modest as ever I see.'' Ulfric chuckled, focusing his attention on the crowd. ''We shall rejoin you shortly, I require a moment with the Dragonborn.'' Conversations across the hall started once again, the reclusive Dragonborn the only topic of discussion. Ulfric motioned to the war room, and Arva turned to Lydia. 

''Stay here with Ragnar, this won't take long.'' She said, following the Jarl into the war room. He waited with Galmar, who stopped pondering over the map to smile at her. 

''Tough journey girl?'' He smiled, embracing Arva who chuckled into his bearskin clad shoulder. 

''Aye, I let myself get a tad soft.'' She admitted, grinning as she pulled away. Arva then turned to Ulfric, losing her smile. ''Really, a hall full of people?'' She ground out through gritted teeth. 

''You are a hero of Skyrim, and deserved to be welcomed as one.'' 

''Now you listen here.'' Arva pointed at him. ''I'm not here to make a scene, I agreed to win your moot for you.'' 

''Most of the people in that hall will be attending. This is a chance to mingle, show them who you are." 

''I never agreed to making small talk." 

"That may be so, but you are a Thane." Ulfric put his hands on the table. "And must take responsibility for matters in this hold."

"I said no to being a Thane, remember?" Arva scowled. "I'm retired, and want it to stay that way." 

"I told her that she wouldn't have to get involved with anything else Ulfric." Galmar spoke up. "The girl has already fought in two wars now, one against dragons no less. Leave her in peace." Arva smiled quickly at Galmar. 

"I will not force anything upon you." Ulfric assured her. "But people of high standing have more of a voice in the moot than it seems. It is a dangerous political game, and you are the key piece." 

"Whoopee." Area said flatly, then frowned. ''Hold on, I thought only the Jarls were involved?'' 

''For the vote, yes.'' Galmar said. ''But people of high standing such as Thanes, noble families and foreign lords can attend.''

''Only the Jarls are allowed into the debating room.'' Ulfric continued. ''But the rest of the palace will be filled with spectators. The moot will likely last several days.'' 

''Wait, days?'' Arva narrowed her eyes. ''I thought everyone would back you as high king, since you're the one that put them on their thrones?'' 

''Yes, but there are still many details to be ironed out.'' Ulfric said. ''Trade and old grievances between holds being the main barriers.'' 

''I can't believe this.'' Arva sighed. ''I'll stay in Windhelm for the moot, then i'm gone.'' 

''A guest room in the palace can be prepared for you.'' 

''I'll stay at the inn, already got a room.'' Arva shook her head. ''I'll come back tomorrow, maybe spar with a few of the guards.'' 

''None of them are brave enough.'' Galmar grinned. ''Ralof might.'' 

''Ralof is here?'' Arva asked excitedly, then composed herself. ''I thought he was posted in Solitude?'' 

''I transferred him back here to help train some of the new bloods.'' Galmar said. ''Decided to keep it as a surprise.'' 

''You old skeever.'' Arva said as she turned away. ''Until later Galmar.'' The two men watched her leave, then Galmar turned to Ulfric. 

''I know you have a lot of plans for her, but she isn't interested. Leave her be or lose her entirely.'' He warned. 

''She's the Dragonborn. She cannot sit idle while there is still so much work to be done.'' Ulfric shook his head. ''The power she holds...''

''Is for her to wield, not us.'' Galmar interrupted him. ''She only backed us in the war for personal reasons Ulfric, don't assume that she's loyal to you.'' 

''Personal reasons?'' Ulfric frowned. ''Such as?''

''I don't know, Arva is a closed book even to me. But she hates the Thalmor more than you do, and doesn't have any family to speak of. You put the pieces together.'' 

* * *

''Everything alright?'' Lydia asked Arva as she left the war room. The guests in the hall conversed loudly, ale and wine flowing freely and loosening tongues. The ones closest to the throne noticed and whispered to each other as they observed Arva.

''Looks like we'll be here a while. The moot will last a few days.'' She sighed, then brightened. ''But I found out that Ralof is here.''

''Uh huh. So is Vilkas.'' Lydia said, raising an eyebrow. 

''Vilkas?'' Arva froze at the mention of the companion. 

''Yeah, listened into a few conversations. A pair of companions are on a job here, trying to catch that killer. People are describing them as tall with similar traits, one broody, one happy, both handsome...'' 

''Alright, I get it.'' Arva cut her off. 

''Are you going to go and see him?'' 

''What? No.'' She frowned. ''Why would I?''

''I seem to recall a night of passion in Jorrvaskr before you trapped Odahviing in Dragonsreach. And then several more after that.” Lydia said casually, grinning as Arva glared. “Come on, you two were good together.” 

''Were you spying on me in the night?'' 

''Spying?'' Lydia scoffed. ''Hardly. I could hear you two from two rooms down.'' 

''You're fired.'' Arva snapped as she marched away towards the crowd, Ragnar bounding after her. 

''If only it were that easy.'' Lydia chuckled as she followed her Thane.


	4. Catching up

"Two bottles of ale, strongest you've got." Arva said to the inkeep. Hearing a whistle across the room, she turned to see Lydia sat at a table with Ragnar. The Housecarl stared with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms. "Make that four bottles. And a sweetroll." Arva sighed as she turned back around. 

"Got it." The inkeep nodded, reaching under the bar to retreive the bottles and sweetroll. Arva handed over a handful of gold coins. 

"Keep the change." She said, whistling for Ragnar. The dog bounded across the room and stood expectantly in front of Arva, who handed him the sweetroll. "Good boy." She said as he wagged his tail, grabbing it in his mouth and padding back to the table, Arva following with the four bottles of ale. 

"What's with the sour face?" Lydia grinned. 

"You, stirring shit." Arva grumbled as she sat down. 

"What, now that you know lover boy is nearby you can't stop thinking about...?"  

"One more word." Arva warned, and Lydia fell silent. 

"You never did say why it ended." Lydia's tone shifted from teasing to serious. "One minute you two are falling in love, the next it's over. What really happened?" 

"You've waited till now to ask me?" 

"I could never get a straight conversation going during the wars. We were always interrupted by dragons or the legion attacking us." Lydia shrugged. "Then you ran away when we finally won. This is the only time we've sat down to relax without an impending battle hanging over us. Now talk." Lydia said as she uncorked her first bottle and drank half the contents in one go. 

"Are you ordering me what to do?" Arva frowned, also uncorking her bottle and taking a large mouthful. "Thane outranks Housecarl remember?" 

"Since when have you ever cared about that?" 

"Since now." Arva said, and Lydia frowned at her for a moment before straightening suddenly. "What?" 

"Was he your last lay?" She asked, alarmed.

"This is none of your...." Arva tried, but Lydia powered on. 

"Talos, no wonder you're so grumpy these days." She chuckled. _‘So she hasn’t been with anyone else since. Still has feelings for him then, even after she left.’_

"I don't sleep around Lydia." 

"I get that, but you're practically celibate." The Housecarl shook her head, bemused. Someone cleared their throat next to the table, and both women looked up to see Jorleif stood next to them. 

"What the fuck?" Arva snapped. "How long have you been stood there?" 

"Jarl Ulfric sent me to deliver a message." Jorleif ignored her question, but his raised eyebrow made it clear he had heard enough of their conversation. "He would be honoured if you dined with him tonight, to discuss preparations for the moot." 

"No, now get lost." Arva said, and when Jorleif opened his mouth to argue she held a hand up. "Don't say anymore. I'm tired, grumpy, and hungry. Leave me in peace or I'm going back home." 

"As you wish." The steward said stiffly, retreating swiftly. 

"Prick." She muttered. 

"You should have accepted the offer, I'm sure Ulfric would be up for a roll in the hay." Lydia grinned, and Arva groaned and put her head down on the table. 

"Enough already." She stood, taking her bottle with her. "Stay here Ragnar, I'm going to get some fresh air." 

"Don't go too far." Lydia said, half serious. "I'll order some food for when you come back in." 

"Aye." Arva nodded, leaving the inn. The late afternoon sun made her squint slightly as her eyes adjusted, and she took a deep breath. _'Ulfric is already plotting. Might have to make an early exit from this place.'_

"Arva?" A familiar voice asked, and she whipped her head around as a grin broke out. 

"Ralof!" She exclaimed, launching herself at the soldier and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He chuckled and squeezed her back tightly. He looked well, the quiet post keeping the peace in Solitude allowing him time to recover. Despite early fears of resistance in Solitude, the people of the city had quickly accepted the Stormcloak victory and set to work rebuilding their lives. Only the upper class citizens had been greatly affected, as their estates were in close proximity to the blue palace so had taken heavy damage during the siege. 

"Talos, it's good to see you." He said, releasing her and running a quick eye over her. She looked in good health, and had lost the run down and exhausted look of wartime. "I had to double check when I saw you standing there, never expected you to come back." Ralof said, elated. 

"I was going to try and find you tomorrow and catch up, Galmar said you've been transferred back from Solitude." 

"Aye, I'm glad to be out of that place, near bored me to tears every day." He nodded. "So what's brought you back?" 

"What can I say, I'm loyal to the cause." She shrugged. 

"Right, and I'm the high king of Skyrim." Ralof rolled his eyes. "What really brought you back?" 

"Helping in the moot, then I'm gone again." 

"Risky game. Are you sure you'll be able to resist the call of adventure?" 

"Wherever there's adventure, I'm heading in the opposite direction." Arva grinned. 

"Why, skills not as sharp as they used to be?" Ralof raised an eyebrow, a familiar challenge in his gaze. 

"Tomorrow morning, training yard." Arva stepped in close. "Maybe you'll beat me this time, or maybe I'll flatten you again." 

"I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve this time." Ralof said, then turned when a group of guards marched past towards the barracks. "Got to cut this short, I'm on watch soon." 

"We can catch up more tomorrow." Arva said, smiling as she punched his shoulder gently. "But it's good to see you. Have fun on watch." 

"Oh, I always do." He said sarcastically as he backed away. "How long are you sticking around for?" 

"Until the moot is over. Maybe sooner if I grow tired of the politics and scheming." 

"Don't run off without saying goodbye this time." Ralof said, seriousness seeping into his voice. "You had us all worried." 

"If I run away, you'll be the first to know." Arva said, waving as she turned back towards the inn. 

"Tomorrow morning!" Ralof called after her, and she shook her head with a smile.

 _'He's definitely confident.'_ Arva thought as she made her way back towards her table, which had two bowls of stew and a loaf of bread waiting for her. Ragnar wagged his tail happily as she sat, then refocused his attention on the half eaten sweetroll under the table. 

"What's the grin about?" Lydia asked. 

"Caught up with Ralof, we're having a dust up tomorrow morning." 

"You have a strange friendship." Lydia chuckled, recalling their numerous sparring sessions. "Think he'll beat you this time?" 

"He seems confident, and I'm out of practice." Arva shrugged. "But I can still put on a decent show." 

"If he starts to beat you, just open your shirt at the top and show some cleavage. That'll distract him." She grinned evilly. 

"Some days I wish I ended up with a different Housecarl...." 


	5. Games

Dawn in Windhelm was quiet, as citizens woke to start their morning routines and open shops. The sound of clashing steel from the training yard behind the palace of kings broke the silence as Arva hacked away at a training dummy that was wearing heavy Imperial armour, while she wore the same clothes from the day before. She swung the iron sword fiercely and repeatedly, grunting as her strikes left dents in the armour but didn't pierce it. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, several strands of hair escaping and sticking to her face as she worked up a sweat venting her frustrations. 

_'Ulfric already invited Talos knows how many nobles.'_ Arva thought as she swung the sword at the dummy's ribs.  _'So keeping my head down won't be an option.'_ She stepped to the left and stabbed the sword into the armpit of the dummy, then span to the right and slashed it across the throat.  _'And now Vilkas is here.'_ Arva finished her assault with an upwards strike, sending the dummy's helmet flying into the air. It landed with a clang, and Arva stopped to catch her breath while she pointed the sword tip into the ground and leaned on it heavily. She spat on the dirt between her feet and inspected the dummy. The armour looked as though it had been mauled by a dragon, several long gouges buckling the surface and rendering it unusable. The buckled plate gave Arva pause as images of a legionnaire replaced the the dummy in front of her, lay on his back as blood seeped out of the gouges in his armour and into the dirt around her feet.

She closed her eyes and tightened her grip on the sword, and when she opened her eyes again she was faced with the dummy. 

''Arva.'' Ralof called from behind her. She turned to see him entering the training yard in full uniform. ''You okay?'' He frowned as he stepped up next to her. ''You look like you've seen a ghost.'' 

''Not quite.'' Arva shrugged one shoulder, smoothing out her features and trying for a smile. Ralof looked past her at the dummy, and understood instantly when he saw the Imperial armour. 

''I keep saying they need to stop using Imperial dummies, but it's all we have.'' Ralof sighed. ''We don't need to be reminded what happened in the war every time we train.'' 

''There's hundreds of sets of legionnaire armour in the armory stock room, there isn't anything else.''

''The Imperials cleared out in a hurry, so they left a lot of gear behind.'' Ralof shrugged, looking back at Arva. ''I know we were supposed to have a scrap this morning, but I've been reassigned.'' 

''Reassigned?'' Arva asked in alarm. ''But you just got back!''

''I know, but orders are orders.'' Ralof sighed, rubbing his neck. ''From the Jarl no less.'' 

''What?'' 

''Forsworn are kicking up a fuss in the Reach again, i'm going with some troops to reinforce the guards there.'' 

''No you're not.'' 

''Excuse me?'' 

''I know Ulfric's game.'' Arva said. ''I've been ignoring him since I got here, so he's doing this to get my attention.'' 

''Are you sure you aren't being paranoid?'' 

''Ralof, you know damned well that the Reach already has a strong enough troop presence to deal with the Forsworn. And the Blades still have their base out there, you can be sure that they're doing their part to keep the Forsworn in check.'' 

''Hmm. Fair enough.'' Ralof said. ''But I still have to go.'' 

''No, i'll go and talk to Ulfric. It's time I set a few ground rules.''

* * *

Arva went back to the inn, and after discussing the situation with Lydia, washed and changed shirts before making her way towards the palace through the busy morning streets, which had come to life as shops opened. Lydia and Ragnar reluctantly waited outside the great doors after a lengthy argument. The palace was uncharacteristically busy, nobles from across the country filling the main hall. Conversations quietened down as Arva walked past, and she clenched her jaw. The throne was empty, but Jorleif stood beside it. 

''I need to see the Jarl.'' Arva said to him, resisting the urge to break his neck when the steward looked down his nose at her. 

''Jarl Ulfric is not receiving visitors to the palace until early afternoon.'' He said, and Arva's composure flew out the window.

''Listen here you little...'' She began hotly, just as a baritone voice cut in. 

''Is there a problem Jorleif?'' Ulfric asked smoothly as he approached. The Jarl waved off several people who tried to get his attention before standing before Arva. 

''The Dragonborn...'' Jorleif tried, but Arva cut him off. 

''We need to talk.'' She said to Ulfric, tone brokering no argument. The Jarl didn't appear worried by Arva's temper, infuriating her more as she followed him to the war room. To her surprise he didn't stop here, and continued up the stairs towards his private rooms. ''Wait just a moment.'' Arva stopped, and Ulfric turned with a frown. ''If you think i'm going to your bedroom...'' 

''I have a private office, there are too many ears downstairs.'' Ulfric said with a raised eyebrow, and Arva deflated slightly. 

''Oh.'' She followed once again, up the stairs and down two corridors. He opened a thick wooden door with a key, then held the door open for Arva. She reluctantly entered the office and looked around quickly. A small fireplace warmed the room, while on the opposite wall a small window overlooked the training yard behind the palace. A large desk sat in the middle of the room, and she took a seat opposite Ulfric after he closed the door. 

''What do you wish to discuss?'' He asked, leaning back in his chair comfortably. 

''Don't play games with me.'' Arva narrowed her eyes at him. ''You told Ralof that you're assigning him to the Reach, just so I'd come and talk you out of it. I'm here now, so tell me what you want.''

''Nothing.''

''I'm out of here.'' Arva stood and made for the door. 

''Wait.'' Ulfric said, and she looked back at him. ''Please, I will explain.'' 

''I don't want anymore games.'' Arva said as she sat once again. 

''I was merely testing you. The moot is a tough affair, and if you were to go in unprepared...'' 

''Look, I get it.'' Arva sighed. ''There's a lot riding on this. I'm just going to keep my head down and stay out of trouble.'' 

''Trouble often has a habit of finding you.'' Ulfric said. ''And the people in that hall thrive off drama and intrigue.''

''They think i'm just a mindless Imperial killing machine.'' Arva said, and Ulfric noted how regret flickered across her eyes for a split second before they closed themselves off again. 

''For now, but it will not take them long to figure out that you understand their games. Then you will be dragged in.''

''If this little pep talk is supposed to convince me to stay, you're doing a bad job.'' Arva said. ''Ralof stays here. No more games. Those are my terms for helping you.'' 

''I will be inform you of any plans from now on.'' He assured her. ''But you cannot just sit on the sidelines. There are several people you must meet soon.'' 

''How soon?'' 

''Tonight. I am holding a feast in the hall, and I would ask you to attend.'' Ulfric said, already sensing her displeasure. ''I am not asking you to be the center of attention, you merely need to maintain a presence.'' 

''Fine. I'll go and buy some clothes.'' Arva stood. ''And Ralof is coming to the feast.''


	6. Defender of the downtrodden

The Gray Quarter of Windhelm never seemed to come alive. The early afternoon sun barely cut through the gloom of the Dark Elves' ghetto, and Lydia was on high alert. 

''This isn't a wise move Arva.'' The housecarl said to her Thane, who's blonde hair stood out like a sore thumb. 

''We need clothes for tonight.'' Arva said as they walked through the ramshackle streets. 

''Why couldn't we have gone to the Stone Quarter?'' 

''I thought you wanted an adventure?'' Arva grinned at her housecarl as she stopped next to a shop with boarded up windows, clearly a tailors due to the sign above the door. ''This'll do.'' 

''Not this type of adventure.'' Lydia muttered as she saw several elves across the street glaring. 

''Come on.'' Arva opened the door, a bell on the frame jingling. Ragnar and Lydia followed her inside, then closed the door. 

''Coming!'' A woman called from the backroom. Arva looked around in surprise at the quality of work on display, then turned to Lydia. 

''See? Not bad.'' The thane said as Ragnar sat next to her. A middle aged Dumner woman entered from the backroom. 

''What can I do for...'' The shopkeeper trailed off when she saw Arva stood there with Ragnar and Lydia beside her. ''If you're here to force me out, I won't be going down easily.'' She growled at the Nords, showing a dagger sheathed at her hip.

''Actually, we're here to buy some clothes.'' Arva smiled at the woman. 

''Oh.'' The shopkeeper paused, frowning at Arva. ''Apologies, the only time Nords come into my shop is to cause trouble.'' 

''It's no bother.'' Arva assured her, looking around the shop once again. ''Your work is of fine quality, I'd expect to see some of these outfits in the Cloud District.'' 

''Thank you.'' The Dumner said, finally relaxing and smiling. ''You're from Whiterun. It's nice to see Nords who are less pigheaded than the ones here.'' She said, making Arva chuckle.

''Aye, we're not all bad. I didn't catch your name...?'' 

''Demiah.'' The woman introduced herself, then turned professional. ''Now, what occasion are the outfits for?''

''We're going to a feast tonight in the Palace.'' Arva gestured at herself and Lydia. 

''In the Palace?'' Demiah momentarily froze. ''And you want clothes from me?'' 

''Yes please.'' Arva smiled, and Demiah nodded determinedly after a moment. 

''No problem. Come here, let me get your measurements.'' She pulled Arva towards the back of the room, then looked at Lydia. ''Lock the door please.'' After a nod from her Thane, Lydia complied then joined the other women. Demiah circled Arva slowly, eyes running up and down the Nord's toned body. ''Hmm. Dress or Tunic?'' 

''Tunic. I might need to give someone a slap.'' Arva answered with a shrug, making Demiah chuckle. 

''As you wish.'' She stopped circling. ''I'm thinking dark blue to match your eyes, slim fit to accentuate your figure. Leave the hair loose and wild.'' 

''Sounds good.'' Arva said as Demiah turned to Lydia.

''Hmm. You'll look good in black. I already have a few pieces underway in the back, this won't take long.'' 

''Thank you Demiah, we'll be back in a couple of hours.'' 

* * *

''What do you mean you're on duty?'' Arva barked at Ralof as they stood outside the inn. ''I told Ulfric you're coming to the feast with me.''

''I'm on duty inside the Palace.'' Ralof said. ''And before you storm Ulfric's office, I volunteered for it.''

''You have got to be shitting me.'' Arva rubbed a hand down her face. 

''I can watch your back better if nobody notices i'm there.''

''I don't need anyone to watch my back. I need decent conversation and a drinking buddy.'' 

''You have Lydia.'' 

''Bah, she's usually too busy  _protecting_ me to get too drunk.'' Arva waved her hand, then looked up at him with a frown. ''You're seriously bailing out on me like this?'' 

''Afraid so.'' Ralof grinned. 

''Ugh, I should have let you get sent to the Reach.'' She span away from him and marched towards the inn. 

* * *

Arva returned to Demiah's shop late into the afternoon with Ragnar and Lydia to find two Nord men outside yelling abuse. 

''Fuck off you red eyed bitch!'' One of the men screamed at the locked door before throwing an empty bottle at it. White hot rage filled Arva as the other man pulled down his trousers and began urinating on one of the boarded up windows. ''Aint nobody want your kind here!'' 

''Hey!'' Arva shouted as she stormed over, and the men turned. 

''Whadda you want?'' One of them slurred.

''Back off.''

''You here to defend this scum?'' 

''Anyone who stands with the grey fucks deserves to be hanged.'' The other said. Lydia stepped up next to her Thane, and the two men seemed to back down considerably at the sight of her. Unlike Arva who wore a simple shirt and trousers, Lydia stood tall in her steel armour. The housecarl gripped the hilt of her sword threateningly and stared the men down. 

''Get out of here.'' She growled. One of the men seemed wise enough to listen to the obviously skilled and well armed warrior. The other, not so much. 

''What, you think you're gonna change anything?'' The dumber of the pair growled. ''We'll come back, and there won't be enough of the bitch left to bury.'' Arva had heard enough, and did something she hadn't done for months. The men had wrongly identified Arva as the lesser threat, so were taken completely by surprise when she stepped forward and shouted at them. 

 **''FUS!''** The shock wave knocked both men off their feet, and she stood over them threateningly. ''If you or any of your friends come back here, i'll kill you.'' She growled as her dormant dragon soul surfaced. Arva's eyes had taken on a slight golden tinge, and her words rumbled with power and violence. The men scrambled away in fear as Lydia took hold of Arva's arm.

''Arva.'' She said gently, watching her thane close her eyes and take a deep breath. ''I've not seen you shout for...'' 

''I know.'' Arva said as she opened her eyes, which had returned to their normal blue colour. ''But it's the only thing that will keep them out of the Gray Quarter for good.'' 

''You're her.'' Demiah said quietly from behind them. Arva turned slowly to see that the woman had opened the door of her shop and stood staring, face unreadable. 

''They won't be bothering you again.'' Arva said. Demiah studied the woman in front of her. Everyone had heard stories of the Dragonborn. She was a merciless killing machine who had killed hundreds of legion troops single handedly, blazing a trail of destruction against the Empire. Yet the young woman in front of Demiah looked guilty about using her power, and shuffled on her feet uncomfortably while avoiding eye contact. 

''Thank you for coming to my aid.'' Demiah said eventually. ''A Stormcloak general is the last person I would expect to defend a Dumner.'' 

''I'm not a Stormcloak anymore.'' Arva said quietly, looking around the street. Several Gray Quarter citizens stood staring, so Demiah beckoned them to enter the shop.

''Come, your outfits are ready.'' 

''You'll still let me in your shop?'' Arva's eyes widened slightly. ''Even though you know who I am?'' 

''Don't let my hesitance earlier put you off.'' Demiah smiled. ''You have a fierce reputation.'' At this, Arva rubbed her neck. ''But you have been nothing but kind to me, and defended me against those men. You will always be welcome here.'' 

''Thank you.'' Arva smiled. 

''Come on, let's get you ready.'' The Dumner woman clapped her hands and entered her shop, the Nord women following.


	7. Palace festivities

The evening sun had just began to touch the horizon when Arva and Lydia approached the palace in their new outfits, which were of high quality. Arva wondered how a woman of Demiah's skill was set up in the slums of Windhelm when her work was easily on par with Radiant Raiment's works in Solitude. There was far more to the fiery Dumner's story, but Arva hadn't asked any questions since it wasn't her place. Demiah had also offered to take care of Ragnar for the night, the dog an effective deterrent for any other racist Nords who might cause trouble.

''Want to get a few drinks at the inn before we have to put up with the scheming?'' Lydia asked. The housecarl wore a short black tunic with silver embroidery on the sleeves and hips, simple but elegant. Lydia had instructed Demiah that she needed to look good enough to fit in, but not good enough to be noticed. 

''Tempting, but it's probably best if I don't drink  _too_ much.'' Arva replied. ''I might fuck up Ulfric's chances of winning the moot by slapping the wrong person.'' She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, then rolled her neck and scowled at the palace doors. ''All right, let's do this.'' 

''Remember, mean face.'' Lydia said, running an eye over her thane. Arva wore a deep blue tunic which finished halfway down her thigh, with dark brown leather trousers which lead into soft shin high boots. A dark brown belt sat comfortably around her waist, and the entire outfit hugged her figure.  _'She's going to get a lot of attention tonight.'_ The housecarl knew that Arva only tucked her hair behind her ear when she was feeling anxious, so stood close despite Arva's brave face. 

''Remember what we agreed?'' Arva turned to her friend. 

''Drink for drink, all night.'' Lydia replied, and they clasped forearms with matching grins. The pair approached the doors of the palace, the muffled sounds of conversation and laughter spilling through. A guard opened the door for them, nodding at Arva. 

''Stormblade.'' He said as Arva passed him with Lydia. She looked around the packed hall, noting that the great table had been extended, while more tables had been set up on either side of it, overflowing with food. Over a hundred people conversed throughout the room as servants carried trays of wine and ale glasses. 

''Introducing, Storm...'' An announcer next to Arva started to call loudly, before she cut him off. 

''One more word and i'll feed you to my dog.'' She said harshly, and the terrified looking man shut up. It was too late however, as several people noticed her.  _'Shit.'_

Ralof looked around from his post in one of the corners when he heard the announcer be cut off mid sentence.  _'That can only be one person.'_ He saw Arva stood with Lydia at the doors, looking helpless as people turned to her. 

''Ah, the hero of Skyrim.'' Ulfric walked forward. He ran an appreciative eye over her, then kissed her hand with a smile. ''You outshine many a star tonight.'' Arva stood mute for a second, until Lydia elbowed her gently. 

''Thanks.'' Arva said, slightly uncomfortable as the people behind Ulfric watched the exchange with keen eyes. ''Could I borrow you for a moment?'' 

''Of course.'' Ulfric replied smoothly, linking her arm with his and guiding her through the hall towards his throne. 

 _'Oh you slimy fucker.'_ Arva thought as people in the crowd tracked their linked arms, whispering to each other.

''What do you need?'' He asked at the base of his throne. Several guards stood at this end of the hall, putting several meters between the crowd and Ulfric's seat of power. 

''I know I already made this clear several times, but i'm just making sure.'' Arva crossed her arms. ''Don't put the attention on me, or I walk.''

''You needn't worry, I will leave you in peace. I cannot promise that of the other guests however. Many are from Solitude, some even from Cyrodiil. They will demand your attention.'' 

''I'll deal with them.'' She said. ''And you can quit with the fake compliments.'' 

''Who says that they are fake?'' Ulfric raised an eyebrow. 

''I do. Enjoy your party.'' Arva turned away, making her way towards her waiting friend. Ulfric smiled at her dismissal and rejoined the feast, confident that her beauty and reputation would draw enough attention without him having to do anything. 

''There are some very rich men who are eager to meet you.'' Lydia said to Arva. She held two cups of ale, and handed one to her friend. 

''Lucky me.'' Arva rolled her eyes and took a sip of ale, eyes widening at the taste. ''Whoa.'' 

''I know.'' Lydia agreed, draining her cup in one go. ''Good stuff.''

''Trying to get a head start?'' Arva raised an eyebrow, then drained her ale. A pair of noble ladies nearby scoffed at the pair's boorish behaviour, then moved away from them. ''Well what do you know, the plan is working.'' She commented as they handed their cups to a passing servant.

''Spoke too soon.'' Lydia said, making Arva frown and look around as a young Nord man approached in fine clothes holding two cups. His hair and beard were groomed, and he carried himself with confidence. 

''Would the lady like a drink?'' He asked smoothly, holding out a cup of wine. 

''Sure.'' Arva replied, taking the cup of ale in his other hand. He blinked slowly at Arva's behaviour before recovering himself and smiling. Lydia moved away to find a cup of ale as per their agreement, leaving Arva alone with the man. 

''My name is Bormir, of house Valund.'' He introduced himself as though Arva would recognise the name. 

''Arva.'' She gave her name reluctantly, remembering that she had to be nice. 

''There are many tales told of you Arva, and it seems the ones that tell of your beauty weren't lying.'' 

''Did you hear the one where I got really drunk and fell down Whiterun's well?'' 

''I'm sorry?'' Bormir frowned slightly. 

''Ah, never mind then.'' She waved her hand.  _'Hurry up Lydia.'_

''I'm from the Reach, so I couldn't possibly comment on Whiterun's well. My family runs the fur trade there.'' Bormir's transparent attempt to bring his wealth into the conversation made Arva sigh internally. 

''The fur trade huh?'' She raised an eyebrow. ''The whole Reach?''

''That's right.'' Bormir straightened slightly with a smile, thinking he was winning her over. 

''I once met a man from the Reach who would shit into his own hand and throw it at people.'' Arva said. ''He wore a really thick fur coat which he used to wipe his hands. Was it one of yours?'' 

''I.... should hope not.'' He looked horrified, and seemed to be regretting his decision to try chatting up the Dragonborn.

''I mean, if your family supplies all the fur in the Reach, it probably was.'' Arva said, leaving Bormir speechless. ''Thanks for the drink.'' Arva drained her cup and handed it back to him, walking away. Lydia stood nearby, and finished her own drink. 

''What did you say to him? He looks shell shocked.'' 

''He was bragging that his family controls the fur trade in the Reach.'' Arva said. ''So I told him about the guy who throws his own shit at people.'' 

''He was a damn good shot.'' Lydia shuddered at the memory. ''Almost got us that time.'' 

''Get us a couple more drinks, I want some fresh air.'' 

''We've only been here for fifteen minutes.'' Lydia raised an eyebrow.

''That's fourteen too long. I'll only be a minute.'' Arva said, making her way through the crowd and ignoring the stares that followed. She managed to reach the doors without any trouble and stepped outside into the cool air, her haste causing her to walk into someone waiting outside. ''Sorry...'' She said quickly, freezing when she recognised the wolf engraving on the steel chest plate in front of her eyes.


	8. Panic

Arva looked up slowly, anxiety running through her. Vilkas stared back, eyes wider than usual but still unreadable. 

''Vilkas.'' Was the only thing she could think to say, taking a short step back. 

''Arva.'' He responded, also at a loss for words. 

''Been a long time.'' Arva said as she fidgeted with her belt, studying him. He still looked the same as the days when they...  _'Those days are long gone.'_ She thought.

''Aye, it has.'' Vilkas said, studying Arva. Her hair was longer, reaching her shoulder blades now instead of finishing at her jaw. The dark bags under her eyes were gone, and her figure had more curvature to it rather than muscle. His addled mind looked on in appreciation before he quickly shut those thoughts down. 

''How are the companions?'' 

''Fine.'' Vilkas said. ''We noticed you won your war.''

''Yeah.'' Arva looked away for a moment. 

''Satisfied with yourself yet?'' 

''Really?'' Arva frowned, crossing her arms. ''The first time we've seen each other in I don't know how long, and you're bringing this up?''

''What else am I supposed to say?'' Vilkas growled. ''You attacked Whiterun, betrayed it's people. It was our home. It still is mine.'' 

''Who do you think kept the Stormcloaks away from Jorrvaskr?'' Arva shot back. ''Who kept them from pillaging the stores, and made sure Balgruuf's life was spared?''

''I'm sure he's very thankful of you for exiling him from his own home.'' 

''Don't start patronising me.'' She snapped. ''Do you think I enjoyed it, that I took pleasure in the war?''

''I don't know what to think. All I know is that one day you left us to join the Stormcloaks, and the country bled for it.'' He said. 

''I didn't see any other option. If you truly knew me, you'd know that I don't just act out of impulse.'' Arva pushed past him and stormed towards the inn as a guard exited the palace. 

''Here's payment for the bandit camp companion. The steward still has a bounty on...'' The guard's voice grew fainter as Arva got further away, her mind a mess of different emotions. She knew that there was always the risk of running into him, but could have never predicted how she would react. 

 _'Could have been worse I suppose. But it's clear he hates me for the war.'_ Arva thought grimly as she entered the inn and sat at the bar heavily.  _'If only he knew what was at stake.'_

''What can I get you?'' The innkeeper asked. 

''Strongest you've got.'' 

* * *

''Vilkas.'' Farkas pounded on the door, waking Arva from her comfortable morning slumber. ''You're gonna miss morning training, hurry up.'' She stretched out in the bed slowly, sighing as a hand planted itself on her hip. 

''Wouldn't be so bad.'' Vilkas said in her ear, then kissed her neck. ''There are other ways to work out.'' His suggestive tone and close proximity tempted Arva, but her morning needs far outweighed her sexual ones. 

''I'm sure there are.'' Arva turned her head towards him and opened one eye slightly. ''But I need to piss, so you wouldn't enjoy it very much.'' 

''Always the romantic.'' Vilkas chuckled as he rolled out of the bed and stood, grabbing the assorted clothes which had been hastily discarded the night before.

''You know me, descended from Mara herself.'' Arva joined him, quickly pulling on her trousers and one of his shirts as the pressure on her bladder increased. They left the room together, sharing a parting kiss before going their separate ways for the day.

* * *

''Hey, you there?'' The innkeeper asked, tapping her fingers against the bar expectantly. 

''Yeah.'' Arva shook her head to clear it, dumping a pile of coins on the surface. ''That's for all my drinks tonight.'' 

''Got you.'' The innkeeper said, sliding a cup of brandy over. Arva drank a mouthful, then sighed and tipped her head back as the liquid burned it's way down her throat to settle in her stomach. ''Rough night?'' 

''I paid for drinks, not questions.'' Arva said, then regretted her bitter tone and sighed. ''Sorry...'' 

''Don't mention it, I've seen this a thousand times.'' The inkeeper said before moving away. The door opened so Arva drained her drink and closed her eyes, not ready for the questions. 

''Arva.'' Lydia said as she stalked over. ''Why did you run off?'' 

''Lydia...'' 

''You don't have to lie to me.'' Lydia leaned on the bar next to Arva, unaware of her thane's dour mood. ''If you wanted to go, you should have just...'' 

''Lydia. Please.'' Arva said, and Lydia froze. ''Not now.'' 

''What's wrong?'' She asked, alarmed. Something had happened. 

''I just need some time alone. Can you go and get Ragnar for me?'' 

''What's happened Arva?'' Lydia's tone had softened considerably. She hadn't seen her thane like this since... since she had left the companions. ''You saw Vilkas?''  

''Yeah.'' Arva ran a hand through her hair. ''Dug up some old pain.'' Lydia was finally ready to ask why her thane left the companions to support the rebellion, but was interrupted by a bell ringing. Both women froze as the inn's patrons started panicking. 

''Dragon!'' Someone yelled, and the room fell into chaos. All except Arva, who slowly stood and looked at Lydia. No words needed to be said, the women making their way towards their rooms. 

* * *

Ralof sprinted towards the main gate with a squad of troops at his back, the dragon attack bell still ringing loudly. Crowds of people scrambled in the opposite direction, screaming in terror. Galmar waited at the gate, listening to a panicked guard. 

''It's circling Kynesgrove, ready to attack. When it's finished there it'll head straight for the city.'' The watchman reported. 

''Get archers along the walls, now!.'' Galmar barked then turned to Ralof. ''We need to keep it away from the city. Take as many men as you need to Kynesgrove.'' 

''That's suicide!'' One of Ralof's men protested. 

''Get a grip man, you have a duty to the people of this city!'' Galmar roared, and the man shut up. 

''We need Arva, she's the only hope we have.'' Ralof said. 

''Agreed, but she's been out of action for a long time. I can't ask her to...'' Galmar was cut off when an unnaturally loud voice shouted above the noise of the crowd.  

 **''MOVE!''** The crowd halted in their fear and parted for Arva who marched towards the gate in full armour, blonde hair spilling from the bottom of her helm. Lydia walked with her, face a mask of composure. ''Galmar, keep all of your men behind these walls.'' She then turned her steely gaze to Ralof. ''That means you as well.'' 

''You're not going out there alone.'' Galmar said as Arva stopped next to him. Ralof thought he saw a flicker of uncertainty behind Arva's eyes, gone as soon as it had arrived. 

''I'm not alone. Keep your men back and this'll be over soon.'' She said, tightening the strap on her shield while her sword sat sheathed at her hip. Galmar looked to be ready to refuse, but sighed instead. 

''Give it hell girl.'' He said, and Arva exited the gate with Lydia in tow. 

''Will she be able to do it?'' A guard asked. 

''If she doesn't, we're all fucked.'' Ralof said grimly. 

* * *

Vilkas stood shoulder to shoulder with his brother as the dragon circled the town. He'd just returned to the inn where they were staying, still affected by seeing Arva again after all this time. Less than a minute later, the beast had been spotted in the distance coming towards the town.

''What's the plan?'' Farkas asked, rolling his neck. They had evacuated the townsfolk, so there was no risk of collateral damage.

''Keep it occupied until Arva gets here.'' Vilkas drew his greatsword slowly.

''What makes you think she's coming?'' Farkas asked skeptically. ''Nobody knows where she went after the war.'' 

''I was talking to her fifteen minutes ago.'' 

''What?'' Farkas looked at his brother in shock. He was prevented from asking any further questions when the dragon landed on a nearby farmhouse and looked at them. 

''Scatter!'' Vilkas yelled and dived for cover as the dragon spewed frost breath at them. The icy mist clipped his arm, and he grit his teeth in pain as his gauntlet and shoulder plate froze, locking his arm in place. Farkas on the other hand had taken cover behind a well, and was unaffected by the frost breath. The dragon took flight once again, it's roar sounding like a laugh to Vilkas. The companion growled as he looked down at his frozen arm, then strained his muscles. The ice cracked, then shattered, allowing movement once again. 

''At least it wasn't fire.'' Farkas commented. The dragon circled overhead, shouting words of power. ''Why isn't it attacking?'' 

''It's taunting us.'' Vilkas ignored the ache in his frostbitten arm and glared up at the winged beast. 

''How do you know?''

''I just do.'' Vilkas growled.  _'Arva used to talk about them a lot._ _'_

* * *

''They're not mindless beasts.'' Arva insisted, sat beside Vilkas under the stars. He had his arm wrapped comfortably around her shoulders while she leaned comfortably into his side. The training yard was empty apart from the pair, who shared a large bottle of mead between them. 

''Right.'' Vilkas said skeptically. ''That's why they attack towns.'' 

''I'm not saying they're good.'' Arva said, taking a drink from the bottle. ''But they aren't mindless. The ones that attack towns and cities, yes. It's when you go out into the wild that you find the different ones.'' 

''Different how?'' 

''Some prefer to stay in seclusion, and only fight to defend their home. Some of them love single combat, so find me or other dragons for a challenge. Some just want to meditate, like Paarthurnax.'' Arva listed on her fingers. 

''Only you could be friends with a dragon.'' 

''Paarthurnax actually gives pretty sound advice, considering he lives on a mountain alone.''

''So what you're saying is that dragons are just like us?'' 

''Not exactly, but some can be reasoned with.'' Arva paused. ''I just hope the dragon tomorrow is one of them.'' 

''Are you really sure about trying to trap a dragon?'' Vilkas asked. 

''No, but it's my only option.'' 

''You're crazy.'' He paused. ''I'm coming to help.'' When she opened her mouth to protest, he shut her down. ''And there's nothing you can do to stop me.'' 

''Oh?'' Arva smiled, kissing him slowly. ''What if I persuade you otherwise?'' She whispered.

''You can certainly try woman.'' 

* * *

''It's coming around again.'' Farkas snapped Vilkas out of his daze. 

''Where's a good archer when you need one?'' Vilkas griped as the dragon swooped towards them. The brothers dived to the side as the beast landed in the center of town, crushing a passing chicken beneath it's foot. They charged it with a roar, Vilkas rolling to avoid it's snapping jaws as Farkas flanked around. 

''Come on you bastard!'' Vilkas roared as he swung his sword with all his might, the sharpened steel scraping against the dragon's toughened scales to create sparks. He then jumped backwards to avoid being crushed by the beast's foot. Farkas meanwhile hacked away at it's side, failing to pierce the toughened scales. The dragon whipped it's tail at him, sending the large man tumbling several feet backwards. The dragon then turned it's head towards Vilkas, so he aimed a strike for it's eye and was taken completely by surprise when the dragon caught his sword in it's mouth and chewed. His blade snapped, causing Vilkas to stumble back holding the hilt.  _'Uh oh.'_   He thought as the dragon opened it's mouth and frost started gathering in the maw. 

 **''Dovah!''** A familiar voice shouted. Arva stalked towards the dragon, a challenge in her step and gaze. The dragon lost interest in Vilkas and turned to face the new threat. 

 **''Dovahkiin.''** The dragon rumbled, then took flight with a roar. 

''Lydia, get them out of here.'' Arva said, tracking the dragon. 

''But...'' The housecarl tried to protest. 

''No buts!'' Arva snapped. ''All of you, don't interfere.'' Lydia nodded reluctantly as she helped Farkas to his feet, Vilkas moving to support his other arm. The trio moved away from Arva, who now stood alone in the center of the town. The dragon landed down the street and roared, beckoning her forward. 

''Why is she fighting it alone?'' Farkas asked as they sat him down behind a fence. 

''It challenged her.'' Lydia said. ''She has to accept.'' 

''So that's what it was shouting about.'' Vilkas commented, watching Arva with concern. 

 **''MUL QAH DIIV!''** Arva's thuum rocked the buildings around her, and the hairs on Vilkas’ arms stood on end. 

''Come on then.'' Arva growled as ethereal golden armour formed around her body, giving her the appearance of a dragon as she slowly stalked towards her challenger, sword still sheathed. The dragon roared at her, spewing icy mist down the street. The stream from the dragon's mouth enveloped Arva completely, and she raised her enchanted shield in defense, still marching forward with gritted teeth. The dragon stopped the onslaught to see that Arva was unaffected, so jumped forward to crush her with it's front claws. She rolled to the side and drew her blade in one smooth motion. Sparks ran up the weapon as her sword once again tasted the air, it's power free from it's prison at last. She slashed her enchanted blade across the dragon's hide and drew blood, making it roar in pain and snap at her with it's jaws. She bashed it across the nose with her shield before shouting directly in it's face. 

 **''YOL!''** Flames burst from her mouth, temporarily blinding the dragon and giving her space to work with her blade. Her dragon aspect shout wasn't going to last much longer so she needed to work quickly, delivering strike after strike against the dragon's face as it snapped at her blindly with it's jaws. Seeing an opening, Arva drove her sword deep into the dragon's right eye and held on while it thrashed around. Arva's ethereal armour dissipated as she lost her grip on the handle of the sword, falling to the ground heavily and struggling to stand as the dragon writhed around with the sword still embedded in it's skull. Arva managed to stand just as the dragon's tail swung around in a desperate arc, and she only had time to raise her shield in defence. Arva cried out as the tail impacted her shield, vision going black as she was flung backwards. 

''Arva!'' Lydia shouted in alarm as her thane was flung into the side of a nearby house, crashing through the wooden wall and landing in a heap inside. The dragon finally dropped dead, orange light flowing through the hole in the building towards Arva, Lydia not far behind with Vilkas. ''We need to get help now!'' Lydia said urgently as she kneeled by her unconscious thane. Arva's shield was bent inwards, her arm clearly broken. 

''We can't move her, who know's what bones are broken.'' Vilkas said grimly, standing. ''Farkas and I made sure the town was evacuated, I'll have to get help from the city.'' 

''Go, now!'' Lydia barked as she pulled out a healing portion and held it to her thane’s lips. Vilkas gave one last look at Arva's broken body before sprinting out of the building.


	9. Ouch

Lydia looked up when she heard footsteps approaching. She leaned against a wall in the palace with Ragnar sat beside her, while in the room behind her healers worked to save Arva's life. They had transported her back to the city in a cart, then Lydia had helped to carefully free Arva from her broken armour before being ushered out. The bruising across her thane's body had been extensive, and guilt hung heavy on her shoulders. Ragnar stared at the doors with his ears pulled back, whimpering occasionally

''Lydia.'' Vilkas greeted as he stopped next to her. ''How is she?'' 

''They're still working on her.'' Lydia replied, looking down. ''I failed her.'' 

''No, you didn't.'' Vilkas looked at the door. ''Nobody can protect her from herself.'' 

''Not for lack of trying.'' She paused, then looked back up at Vilkas. ''She shouldn't have fought the dragon. We had a bit to drink, then she had even more after she ran into you.'' 

''You're blaming me?'' He narrowed his eyes. 

''No.'' Lydia sighed. ''But she was in a state after she talked to you.” She paused. “Why did it end between you?”

''She never told you?'' Vilkas asked with a raised eyebrow. 

''No, she didn't.'' 

''One day, she got out of bed and left to join the Stormcloaks. I tried to stop her, but you know Arva.'' Vilkas paced slightly, eyes still on the door. ''The next time we saw her, she was leading an attack on the city.'' 

''There's more to it.'' Lydia also shifted her gaze to the door. ''I caught her at the stables and made sure she didn't leave without me.'' The housecarl recalled. ''She looked... distraught. And desperate.'' 

''If she had that much of a problem with me...'' Vilkas growled. 

''You weren't the problem.'' Lydia looked at Vilkas. ''It took her a while to get over you. Whatever it was that made her leave, I think she did it to protect you.'' 

''From what?'' 

''I don't know. This is all speculation on my part, she shuts me down if I try to ask.'' Lydia sighed. ''But if she hasn't told me by now...'' 

''She's hiding something.'' Vilkas finished. The door opened, and a mage healer walked out. 

''The Dragonborn is stable.'' The woman said. ''Several ribs are cracked or broken, along with her arm. There’s also some serious bruising across her torso. We used a spell to keep her under while we worked, it should wear off in the next couple of days.” 

''Thank you.'' Lydia said as the other healers filed out. She rushed into the room with Ragnar, freezing at the sight of Arva. Her thane lay on a large bed, naked from the waist up apart from the bandages wrapped around her torso. Her broken arm was pulled across her chest in a sling, and her pale skin was covered in purple bruises. Ragnar walked forward slowly and put his head on the bed before whining loudly. ''I know boy.'' Lydia whispered, placing a hand on his back in comfort. “Hopefully she wakes soon.” 

 _‘Arva...’_ Vilkas stood frozen in the doorway. He was no stranger to injuries, but the amount of damage across Arva’s body shook him. He also pondered over what Lydia had said outside the room. _‘She said that Arva was distraught when she left us. Whatever she’s hiding, I’ll find out when she’s better.’_

“You want to stay?” Lydia asked, knocking Vilkas from his daze. 

“It’s not my place anymore.” He said. “But I’ll stay in Windhelm until she recovers.” 

* * *

Arva awoke, soon regretting every decision she had made in her life as her whole body screamed at her. _‘Ow.’_ Was the only coherent thought that she could muster. Arva cracked open her eyes slightly and noted her surroundings groggily. Ragnar slept at the foot of her bed, while Lydia dozed in a bedside chair. The room was grand, clearly a guest room in the palace. “Ragnar?” She croaked, and her dog instantly awoke and perked up, tail wagging as he barked once. Lydia snapped awake and sat up straight, rushing to her thane’s side. 

“Arva!” She gasped as Ragnar licked Arva’s ankle. 

“Water.” Arva croaked. Lydia nodded and held a nearby cup to her thane’s lips, The cool liquid blissful in Arva’s ragged throat. She tried to sit up, but pain across her body forced her to splutter on the water and groan in agony. 

“I’ll get the healer.” Lydia shot up. “Don’t try and move again!” She dashed out of the room. 

“Ragnar?” Arva muttered once again, and the dog gently crawled further up the bed to rest his nose against her hand. The familiar snout relaxed Arva as Lydia appeared with a healer in tow, a young woman with long auburn hair and green eyes wearing mage robes. Her hands lit up with healing magic, and as the healer approached the bed she introduced herself. 

“Dragonborn, it’s good that you’re awake. I’m Ari.” She said. 

“Arva.” She insisted weakly. 

“Very well, Arva. I’m preparing to use a healing spell to numb your pain but I’ll need to physically touch you, so I need your consent.” 

“By all means, touch away.” Arva closed her eyes as Ari placed her hands against her battered torso, transferring a steady stream of healing magic through them. The pain reduced drastically, making Arva sigh. 

“There, that should last for a few hours.” Ari removed her hands. “You need to drink a healing potion every three hours to help in your recovery.” 

“Is it wise to drink every three hours?” Arva frowned up at Ari. “What about when I need to piss?” 

“I’m afraid it’s necessary.” Ari said apologetically. “You have three cracked ribs, two broken ones and a broken arm, as well as the bruising across your torso. The potions will speed your recovery and help the bones mend faster. Combined with magic, you should be able to move unassisted in a few days.” 

“So what you’re saying is that I need to hold it in for a couple of days?” 

“If you were truly desperate, someone could help you.” Ari said, and Arva raised an eyebrow at Lydia.

“Lucky me.” Lydia droned. 

“Well, this is shit.” Arva sighed. “Thank you Ari, I’ll repay you for looking after me.” 

“I’m only doing my job.” Ari smiled, making her way towards the door. “I’ll be back in a few hours to renew the spell.” Lydia closed the door behind the healer after thanking her, then sat back in her bedside chair with a heavy sigh. 

“Am I in for a lecture?” Arva asked, trying to find a more comfortable position. Despite the spell easing her pain, she still found movement to be incredibly uncomfortable so gave up. 

“No.” 

“Really?” 

“I’m waiting till you’ve recovered.” 

“Fair enough.” Arva looked up at the ceiling. “So, what’s the latest?” 

“You’ve been out for two days. Everyone in the city thinks you’re a hero, more than usual. Ulfric has been preaching your bravery to the nobles, several of which keep trying to get up here.” 

“Why?” 

“Lets just say that a lot of men are walking around with amulets of Mara on.” 

“Talos, I don’t fucking need this.” Arva groaned. 

“If it makes you feel any better, some women want to marry you as well.” Lydia grinned. “Ralof and Galmar have been stood on guard downstairs for two days, making sure none get up here.” 

“I’ll buy them both a round of drinks later, when I can fucking walk.” Arva was already becoming agitated, forced to remain in bed. Using the dragon aspect shout had made her dragon soul more active, so her temper was even worse than usual. “Fucking shit bastard cunting fucking dragon.” She ranted. “They always pick the right fucking times to drop in. Fucking lizards.” Being injured was her personal hell. 

“I thought you respected dragons?” 

“I’ve changed my mind, I hate all of them.” 

“You chose to fight it alone.” Lydia shook her head. “Whilst drunk and out of practice.” 

“Don’t even start.” Arva snapped. _‘Back in the day I wouldn’t have broken a sweat against that dragon. When I’m back on my feet I’ve got to start challenging myself again.’_


	10. Bedside visits

Arva looked up from her book when someone knocked on her door. A day after Arva had woken up, she had finally managed to get Lydia to go and stay in the inn, and was finally enjoying some alone time.

''Go away.'' She barked. Ragnar lay nearby chewing on a bone, pausing to stare at the door while his hackles raised slightly. 

''I doubt you could make me in your current state.'' Galmar replied, making Arva smile slightly. 

''Want to bet?'' She shot back. 

''You're going to be the death of me. Can I come in?'' 

''Fine.'' The door opened and Galmar entered, running a quick eye over her bruises and bandaged arm. 

''I know you like your privacy, I’m just checking up.” He made his way towards her bed and pulled up a chair. ''It's a shit storm down there.'' 

''Yeah, I heard.'' Arva sighed. She closed her book with one hand and winced as she pushed herself up in bed slightly. ''I bet they were hiding under the tables when the dragon alarm went off.'' The combination of regular potions and healing spells had helped to reduce Arva's pain greatly, but she still moved carefully. The broken arm was bearable, as was the bruising, but her broken ribs still prevented much movement. 

''Well, Ulfric is spinning it to his advantage.'' Galmar grunted. ''He kept a cool head, then sent the mighty Dragonborn to destroy the threat. The traits of a true High King.'' 

''He had fuck all to do with it.'' Arva rolled her eyes. “I was in the tavern when I heard the bell.” 

''I know, i'm just describing how it looks to that crowd of milk drinkers down there.'' 

''Look, i'm going to be honest here Galmar. As soon as i'm better I might just leave.'' She said. ''I've tried my best, and this isn't for me.''

''I've half a mind to come with you.'' Galmar nodded, and Arva froze. 

''....Really?'' 

''I'm a General girl, I lead troops, I don't make small talk with the likes of those bastards down there. When Ulfric wins the palace is going to be full of them permanently.'' He sighed. ''But I also made a promise to do everything I could to put Ulfric on the throne. He's the only one who'll keep the Thalmor out for good.'' At the mention of the Thalmor, Galmar noticed Arva's eyes harden slightly. ''I won't stop you from leaving, but it’s good having you around again. Ralof thinks so too.'' 

''Are you guilt tripping me into staying?'' She asked with a small smile. 

“I don’t have to yet, because while you’re in that state you’re not going anywhere.” Galmar grinned. He leaned forward to rest his hand on her shoulder gently. “Stay until the moot is finished, help me make sure those Thalmor bastards never come back.” 

“I’ll try.” Arva said. Galmar noticed that the mention of the Thalmor had visibly hardened her resolve. 

“Thanks girl.” He stood with a groan. “Damn these old bones.” 

“Oh, now you’re finally admitting it?” Arva grinned. 

“Only to you.” Galmar chuckled as he made his way towards the door. He patted Ragnar on the head as he passed, the dog’s tail wagging. “Look after her hound.” 

“Stay safe you old bear.” Arva said as he closed the door behind him. She grabbed the book again and returned to her page, sighing quietly as she relaxed. The peace lasted one minute before there was another knock on the door. “I don’t fucking believe this.” She growled quietly, slamming the book down. “What?!” She shouted at the door. 

“Dragonborn, there are some matters that require your attention now that you are awake.” Jorleif said through the door. 

“Do you think I’m in a state to deal with your shit?” 

“But...” 

“Don’t care, fuck off.” Arva snapped and Jorleif fell silent. She waited a few moments to make sure he’d left, then picked up her book once again and took a deep breath. “Calm down Arva.” She said to herself, willing her furious dragon soul to subside. Being kept in a single room whilst being unable to move freely had left Arva restless and short tempered, due to the dragon aspect shout awakening her more bestial side. Dragons didn’t respond well to confinement.

There was another knock on the door. Arva looked up slowly with a clenched fist. 

“Excuse me, Dragonborn?” An unfamiliar voice asked. 

“What do you want?” She managed through gritted teeth. She held back on the aggression for now, as she didn’t recognise the man’s voice. Being rude to Jorleif on impulse was one thing, but being rude to strangers was another. 

“I’m the captain of the guard.” The voice responded through the door. “If you didn’t already know, there are several nobles who are constantly trying to get upstairs, with the intention of proposing marriage to you.” 

“Tell them to shove their amulets up their arses.” Arva said. _‘Do the idiots not realise that I have to be wearing one too, or do they just not care?’_

“There have also been a few fights regarding who deserves your hand.” 

“I don’t see how this is my problem.” 

“Is there any chance that you could let a few visit you, to appease them?” The captain asked, and Arva had to look away from the door to avoid shouting it down. “It would help keep the peace.” 

”If you let any of those bastards up here you’ll have to scrape them out of the floor with a shovel.” 

“....I take it that’s a no then?” 

“Oh you’re clever, no wonder they made you captain.” 

“Of course, have a good day.” The captain squawked before making a hasty retreat. Arva closed her eyes for a moment before picking her book up again. Focusing on the words in front of her, she took a few deep breaths and calmed slightly. The peace lasted for a couple of minutes, before a fourth knock at the door sent a red hot wave of rage flooding through her veins. “Right!” Arva barked, dragon soul roaring within her as she flew out of bed and stormed towards the door, pulling it open roughly to stand face to face with a stunned Ari. 

“How did you...?” The healer asked, dumbfounded as Arva stood opposite her wearing nothing but a long bed shirt which reached her lower thigh. Arva’s normally blue eyes held a slightly gold tinge, but this subsided quickly as horrendous pain took over and she collapsed. Ari caught her while kicking the door shut with her heel, healing magic pouring from her hands as she guided Arva back towards her bed. Ragnar whined and stood, following them. 

“Fuck me.” Arva gasped as she lay down. Ari’s hands soon pressed against her torso, casting a spell to ease her pain. 

“How did you even manage to stand?” Ari asked as her magic worked to ease Arva. _‘One second she looked ready to rip me in half, the next her wounds took over.’_

“I can do anything when I’m angry.” Arva said with closed eyes, shaken from the pain. _‘Haven’t been this banged up in a long time. Felt like my ribs were going to collapse inwards.’_

“If you are unhappy with my services, I can request another healer.” Ari said flatly while standing. Arva’s eyes snapped open as she realised what she’d implied. 

“Ari wait, I didn’t mean that.” Arva said as she sat up slowly to sit against the backboard, wincing as she did so. “I can explain.” Ari slowly sat in the bedside chair as Ragnar jumped onto the bed and curled up at Arva’s feet, licking her once. 

“With the injuries you have, travelling across the room as fast as you did should have been impossible.” She then looked deep into Arva’s blue eyes. “And your eyes were turning golden. You looked ready to fight another dragon for a second there.” 

“I’m sorry.” Arva looked down slightly in shame before meeting the healer’s eyes again. “I’m sure it’s no secret that I’ve got a dragon soul, but not a lot of people understand what that actually means.” 

“Oh?” Ari leaned forward, intrigued. She pushed aside the incident, ready to hear more. Very few actually knew the details of Arva’s mysterious soul. 

“My soul is purely that of a dragon.” Arva explained. “Everyone knows that it allows me to learn shouts instantly, and talk to other dragons. But it’s deeper than than that, it affects me every second of every day.” 

”How so?” Ari asked. 

“The obvious one would be my temper.” Arva said, then looked up at the drab stone roof. “I’m always craving the open sky. I can’t fly, but just seeing it...” Ari studied Arva as she spoke, seeing the longing in her eyes. “And the rolling countryside,  where you can walk for miles without running into anyone, truly free.” She paused to look at Ari. “Being locked up like this isn’t healthy for me. I thought that because my dragon side has been dormant for so long I could get away with it, but I was wrong.” 

“Are you going to end up burning the palace down?” 

“I’ll probably just break all my other ribs trying to escape.” Arva chuckled without humour. 

“Well, as your healer I cannot allow this.” Ari stood. “I’m going to go and make some arrangements.” 

“Arrangements?” Arva echoed. 

“You’ll see, now don’t go running off anywhere again.” Ari smiled as she left. 

“Just make sure nobody but you knocks on this door.” 


	11. The great escape

Ari entered the inn, and found Lydia sat at a table waiting for her. 

“Let me guess, she’s threatening to jump out of the window?” The housecarl said as Ari sat opposite her. At the healer’s nod she rolled her eyes. “This happens every time.” 

“Is she injured often?” 

“Not really, she’s one of the toughest fighters alive.” Lydia waved her hand. “But every once in a while something bigger and meaner than her will come along. It’s always the same, she sends me away and says that she needs time to recover alone.” 

“And then she starts going all ‘dragon’ on us.” Ari finished.

''Aye, she's got too much pride.''

“So, what would you recommend? I’m thinking about moving her outside somewhere.” 

“She just needs an open space like some old ruins.” Lydia said. 

“Ruins?” Ari frowned. “I was thinking more along the lines of a nearby farm.” 

“Most dragons that live in the wild occupy old ruined towers. Put her in something like that and she’ll recover in no time.”

”Arva mentioned that her soul made her crave the way dragon’s live.” Ari’s brow furrowed in thought. “I’m fairly certain that there is an old watchtower about two miles east of the city.” 

“Perfect. A few days there and she’ll be as good as new.” Lydia smiled. “The only trouble is getting her there.” 

“I can organise a cart to take her. The main obstacle will be getting her through the city without her admirers catching on.” 

“We’ll have to sneak her out at night.” Lydia said, then frowned at Ari. “I have to ask, are you loyal to Ulfric? Because he really wants her to stay in the palace and keep those nobles buzzing around.” 

“I’m loyal to my patients.” Ari shook her head. “Arva is clearly suffering in the palace, so I’ll do everything possible to get her out.” 

“Fair enough.” Lydia nodded. “I’ll rustle up a disguise for her, you go and organise a cart. Meet me back here at midnight.” She held her arm out, and Ari clasped her forearm tightly. 

* * *

Arva woke from her uneasy sleep when Ragnar growled from the foot of her bed. She was instantly alert, hand reaching for the dagger under her pillow and hearing traces of noise from outside, people who didn't want to be heard. Ragnar recognised the scent and stopped growling, his tail wagging back and forth indicating that friends were outside. Arva relaxed as there was a single, quiet knock on the door. It opened straight after, and in the gloom she could make out Lydia and Ari. The healer created a small flame in her hand and lit several candles around the room as Ragnar jumped off the bed. Arva growled slightly at them as her blood began to boil. 

''What's going on?'' Arva asked quietly as she sat up, scowling through her tangled hair. 

''What does it look like? We’re getting out of here.’' Lydia rolled her eyes, dropping a package at the foot of the bed. Arva opened it, holding up a thick cloak with a large hood. ''Demiah sends her regards, says that she wouldn't mind you dropping by when you're better.'' 

''I can help with your pain, but it'll be slow going to the cart.'' Ari said, hands lighting up with healing magic. At Arva's nod, she held her hands against her injured torso and cast the spell. 

''Cart?'' Arva echoed, calming as the spell ran through her body. ''Are these the arrangements you talked about?'' 

''The very same.'' Ari smiled. 

''There's an old abandoned tower a couple of miles from here. Up for the hike?'' Lydia donned her own cloak, as did Ari. The thick fur garments fell down to their thighs, guaranteed to keep the cold night air out.

''I take it that Ulfric doesn't know about this?'' Arva groaned as she stood, pulling on her leather trousers before sitting to put on her boots. Ari's healing magic was certainly the most powerful that Arva had ever come across as after a few days she was able to move freely, if not slowly. 

''Yeah, he knows. Which is why we're sneaking you out in the night.'' Lydia raised an eyebrow. 

''I'm just making conversation, no need for the back chat.'' Arva scowled at her housecarl before looking at Ari as she finished lacing her boots. ''You'll probably lose your job for this.'' 

''I'm a healer from the college so I don't work for anyone, I just travel from place to place helping people.'' Ari shrugged with a grin. ''Besides, this is the most fun I've had in years.'' 

''Why aren't more healers like you?'' Arva chuckled as she slowly pulled the cloak over her head with her good arm, gritting her teeth as her ribs screamed. Lydia watched her struggle slightly, but knew that an offer of help would end with Arva getting prickly as her dragon soul was still highly active. Lydia had already warned Ari to minimise her aid, and could see that the healer was having to fight hard to resist her natural instinct of helping. Arva eventually got the cloak on after several long agonising seconds, her injured arm protected underneath the furs. With her free arm, she lifted the hood then nodded to Lydia. ''Lead the way.'' 

Lydia exited the room, Arva following with Ragnar at her side and Ari pulling up the rear, the healer closing the door quietly behind her as she left the room. Ralof waited for them at the end of the corridor, nodding to Arva. 

''Good to see you on your feet.'' Ralof whispered at Arva who smiled back. 

''Anyone else involved in this little get away?'' 

''No, this is us.'' He said quietly. ''This passage leads out into the rear training yard, from there it's a long walk to the docks. There's a boat waiting there for you, take it across the river. The cart is waiting at the stables with some healing supplies and food.'' He outlined the plan quickly to Arva, who put a hand on his shoulder. 

''Thanks Ralof. Drinks on me if I come back.'' 

''If, not when?'' 

''If.'' She nodded, then moved past him and into the passage, hobbling slightly.  _'Fucking ribs, this is gonna be a long night.'_

* * *

Early into the next afternoon Ulfric sat reading a report in his study, and looked up when someone knocked urgently. ''Enter.'' He called, and Jorleif opened the door. ''What is it Jorleif?'' He asked as his steward stood before the desk. 

''It's the Dragonborn. She's left the palace, likely during the night.'' 

''What?'' Ulfric froze. 

''Along with her housecarl and the healer assigned to her.'' Jorleif reported, then stepped back quickly as Ulfric shot out of his seat. 

''Find them.'' He barked.  _'There is too much on the line for her to leave.'_

* * *

Arva sighed happily as she gazed up at the afternoon sky from her bedroll. The abandoned tower was a shell of it's former glory, only the crumbling walls remaining. The roof had collapsed many years ago, leaving an unobstructed view of the great blue expanse. Luckily the skies were clear, as the ruins would give them no protection from rain or snow. Arva could use her clear skies shout if the weather turned foul, but it would give away her sanctuary. She was certain that Ulfric was keeping her disappearance quiet but was privately shitting himself, and the thought made Arva smile genuinely for the first time since she had been injured. 

''Well, coming here was the right call.'' Ari said as she entered the tower, feeling relieved to see a full smile on Arva's lips. She cast a fireball into the smoldering fire and it roared to life once again, filling the space with warmth. Lydia was sat outside with Ragnar on watch, the dog's senses useful for detecting any threats.

''Thanks for helping Ari, even after I showed my teeth yesterday.'' 

''It's no bother, you apologised and explained the circumstances.'' Ari waved a hand as she sat on a nearby rock. Arva turned to lean on her elbow and face Ari. 

''Okay, I opened up about my soul, so now it's my turn to ask a question.'' 

''By all means.'' Ari raised an intrigued eyebrow. 

''I've never felt such powerful restoration magic.'' Arva began. ''How in Talos' name did you become so powerful?'' 

''Well, I _am_ a master.'' Ari gestured to her corresponding robes. ''Have been for about four years.'' 

''Four years?'' Arva's eyebrow's raised slightly. Master mages are usually associated with thinning grey hair and wrinkles, not smooth skin and long waves of auburn hair. ''How old are you?'' 

''I've seen twenty four summers, the youngest person to ever become a master at the College of Winterhold.'' Arva noticed the faint patch of freckles that covered her cheeks and nose had become more obvious in the cold. 

''No surprise there, you're the best healer I've ever come across.'' Arva chuckled, pleased that her ribs were healing rapidly enough to allow easy laughter. ''If you're a master at the College, why aren't you there?''

''I want to help people. I can't do that by sitting behind a desk with my head buried in a scroll.'' Ari shrugged. ''I travel between cities helping people. Most Jarl's have asked me to stay in their hold permanently, but I prefer the freedom.'' 

''I get you.'' Arva nodded. 

''I was just about to leave this hold, but then the dragon attacked so I stayed to help. And now i'm sat in a crumbling old ruin, swapping life stories with my patient who I just smuggled out of a city.'' Ari chuckled. 

''Funny old life eh?'' Arva rolled over to look up at the sky again. ''What will you do when i'm fully healed?''

''I might just stick around for a while. It's nice not be alone for a change.'' Ari smiled. 

''Quite the little gang we've started.'' Arva smiled as she tracked a flock of birds fly over them. ''We might need a name soon.'' 


	12. Freedom

''What are your plans?'' Lydia asked Arva the next morning. They sat outside the tower on some rocks, wrapped up in Demiah's warm cloaks. Arva slowly ran her fingers through Ragnar's fur as she talked, the dog emitting the occasional sound of enjoyment. ''Are you going to go back to Windhelm?'' 

''Honestly, I don't know. Probably.'' Arva shrugged. ''It's just that while I was there I was willing to put up with the moot, but now that I'm out here...'' 

''Freedom is calling.'' Lydia chuckled. 

''That was the best sleep I've had since I left home.'' 

''It must have been.'' Ari said as she emerged from the tower, throwing her cloak around her shoulders. ''Because your snoring was immense.'' 

''I don't snore.'' 

''You snore like a dragon.'' Lydia grunted, and Ragnar whined in agreement. 

''Well, that's hardly my fault now is it?'' Arva raised an eyebrow with a grin. Ari smiled, marveling at how carefree Arva seemed after leaving the city. Ari was surprised at how easy going the Dragonborn was, a stark contrast to the fearsome reputation she held. 

''I'm surprised Ragnar isn't deaf after having to live with you.'' Lydia said. 

''And a dog's hearing is far more sensitive than ours.'' Ari looked at him sympathetically. ''Poor boy.'' 

''Hey, he snores as well.'' Arva smiled at her four legged friend. ''Guess we're meant for each other, aren't we buddy?'' He barked happily. 

''Did you buy him from the Markarth stables?'' Ari asked.

''No, we found him near the end of the war.'' Arva explained. ''Lydia and I cleared out a bandit camp, and the sick bastards had him tied up in awful conditions. They beat him, and barely fed him enough to stay alive.'' She recalled, a dark look coming over her eyes. ''I took him home and nursed him back to health. Initially I planned to find him a good home, but by the time he was better we'd grown close and I knew I could never give him up.'' Ragnar lay his head on her lap, and she smiled at him and scratched his ear. 

''You'd never suspect that he's been abused in the past.'' Ari said sadly. ''He's such a lovely dog.'' 

''It's all a facade. He waits for you to drop your guard, then robs your sweetroll.'' Lydia said, and Ragnar huffed indignantly. 

''We're on to you hound.'' Arva chuckled, then flexed her injured arm. It still hurt, but at least she could move it. 

''That arm was broken. How can you move it so soon?'' Ari asked in awe. 

''I heal faster than most.'' Arva explained. ''Combined with your magic, I'll be fully fixed in the next couple of days.'' 

''Is there anything else your soul can do?'' Ari asked. ''Because the list is getting longer the more time I spend with you.'' 

''Well, her thuum makes her loud in the bedroom.'' Lydia chipped in with a grin, Ari's cheeks taking on a faint red tinge as Arva glared at her housecarl. 

''Really?'' Arva asked as she glared. 

''What?'' Lydia said innocently. ''It's been at least a year since you've had a good...'' 

''Shut it.'' She barked. 

''How about we change the subject?'' Ari asked, and Arva looked at her gratefully. Ragnar suddenly perked up and growled lowly. Arva clenched her fist as Lydia stood to draw her sword. Ari stayed seated, but summoned a flame in her hand. 

''What is it?'' Ari asked. Ragnar recognised the scent of the approaching person and stopped growling. 

''Whoever it is, they're not an enemy.'' Arva said. A short moment later, Vilkas emerged from the treeline and made his way towards them. Lydia sheathed her sword but remained standing. 

''What are you doing here?'' Lydia asked as he approached. ''How did you find us?'' 

''I came to warn you.'' He replied, running a discrete eye over Arva. She looked almost recovered, it was hard to believe that only a few days ago she had been flung through a building. 

''About?'' Arva asked, voice measured while she tapped a finger against her leg anxiously. Ari looked between Arva and Vilkas, the tension between them obvious.

''Ulfric is looking for you. Several patrols will be coming this way soon.'' 

''Patrols?'' Arva frowned. ''Talos, what's his problem?'' 

''A lot of those fools in the palace are strutting around hoping to marry you.'' Vilkas said, and only Arva noticed the slight change in his tone. She couldn't place the emotion, but the change was there. ''Ulfric has been garnering favors by assuring them that you're going to be attending the next feast.'' 

''Another feast?'' Lydia frowned. 

''To celebrate Arva defeating the dragon.'' 

''How do you know all of this?'' Arva asked. 

''Farkas and I have been invited for helping.'' Vilkas said. ''Though we didn't do much.'' 

''So, what are we going to do?'' Ari spoke up. ''I don't think Ulfric will try to take you back by force, but if his men find us I doubt they'll leave us be. We'll be followed everywhere.'' 

''We're not staying here.'' Arva stood. 

''I know you heal fast, but are you sure you're up for this?'' Ari asked, also standing. 

''Hit me with your spell, I should be fine.'' Arva nodded. Ari's hands lit up with magic, and she pressed them to Arva's ribs. When the spell was cast, Arva turned to Lydia. ''Grab some supplies from the tower. We'll head towards Winterhold, they won't be able to track us in the snow.'' 

''Are you giving up on the moot?'' Ari asked as Lydia moved away to grab their supplies. 

''I don't know yet.'' Arva admitted. ''But i'm not doing it on Ulfric's terms.'' 

''This should be enough to get us to Winterhold.'' Lydia returned, a supply pack over her shoulder. She handed another to Ari as Arva made to walk away, pausing next to Vilkas and looking up at him. 

''Thanks Vilkas.'' She said quietly, looking up at him and trying to keep her voice measured. It was hard being so close to him, taking in his familiar scent. 

''Feast is in three days.'' Vilkas said. He'd seen the look in her eyes, she didn't hate him like he'd first assumed when she left Jorrvaskr. What Lydia said was true, she'd left for a reason, a reason that she had told to nobody. ''See you there.'' If she turned up, he'd find out then. 

''Confident that I'll show?'' Arva began to smile slightly, then caught herself and stopped. She cleared her throat and moved away with Ragnar in tow, Ari following with a confused look on her face. Lydia came next, and she nodded to Vilkas. 

''See you in a couple of days.'' She said. 

''Are you sure she'll come back?'' 

''She's willing to put a man she hates on the throne. Whatever she's hiding, it's tied into the moot.'' Lydia then moved to follow her thane, leaving a troubled Vilkas alone to ponder her words.


	13. Is it true?

Ulfric paced in the war room as the spymaster spoke to him. 

“The Dragonborn is nowhere to be found inside the city walls, but some men found evidence of a small encampment two miles outside of the city, in one of the old guard towers.” 

“Do you know where they went?” He stopped pacing. 

“One of them seems to think they headed towards Riften, but my guess would be Winterhold because It’ll be harder to track them through the snow. I already sent a message by raven to the city, if they’ve gone there I’ll know soon.”

“Good work. Dispatch....” Ulfric trailed off as Galmar stormed in. “Leave us.” 

“Yes my Jarl.” The spymaster nodded. “General.” He said to Galmar as he left. The man in question fixed Ulfric with a fierce glare. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Galmar growled. “You’re sending search parties after her?” 

“Galmar...” Ulfric tried, but Galmar cut him off. 

“Don’t you Galmar me.” The old general took a step forward, fury lacing his words. “We agreed that Arva can do as she pleases. So why are you hunting her like a criminal?” 

“Those men are only keeping track of her.” 

“She isn’t your property.” 

“It is imperative that she returns before the feast.” 

“Why, so that those milk drinkers can gawk at her like she’s some prize?” Galmar said. “I wish I never went to fetch her.” 

“She is the key to our success.” 

“At this point, I don’t give a fuck!” Galmar barked, and Ulfric’s eyebrows raised slightly. “She’s a living, breathing person damn it. I’d follow you anywhere, but Arva means a lot to me. If I get wind that you're trying to keep her here against her will, I walk.''

* * *

“Why are you supporting Ulfric?” Ari asked Arva as they sat beside the fire in Winterhold’s inn. The latter of the pair was grateful that they were the only guests. “You clearly hate the man.” 

“It’s a long story. One I’d rather keep to myself.” Arva replied, not looking up from her empty mug. Ragnar slept on the floor beside her, his paws and nose twitching occasionally.

“Fair enough.” Ari nodded. 

“Hey.'' Lydia cut in as she sat back down with three mugs of ale. ''We conducted a midnight escape to get  _away_ from Ulfric. From now on we don't talk about him.'' 

''Yeah, let's get smashed instead.'' Arva grinned as she took a mug from Lydia.

''Are you sure that's wise?'' Ari raised an eyebrow as she accepted a mug. ''What if  _you know who's_ men catch up?'' 

''Fuck em.'' Lydia shrugged. ''They won't do anything, Arva scares the shit out of them.'' 

''There are quite a few extraordinary stories about you.'' Ari nodded. 

''Oh?'' Arva raised an intrigued eyebrow and leaned back in her chair. 

''The soldiers say that you single handedly repelled an Imperial attack on a fort in the middle of the night wearing nothing but your underpants.'' Ari said, and Lydia grinned knowingly.

''There's nothing quite like soldier's gossip is there?'' Arva sighed. 

''Well, is it true?'' 

''We were in a camp, not a fort. A small Imperial patrol stumbled upon us by accident and saw that everyone was raving drunk, so they thought it would be an easy win. Luckily Lydia and I were still hungover from being in another camp the day before so we opted to stay sober. By the time the others knew that they were in danger we'd driven the Imperials off.'' 

''When she turned around to face the camp, she didn't realise that her shirt had been ripped open completely down the front.'' Lydia chuckled. ''I think the lads appreciated the view of cleavage to round off the night.'' 

''That story is bad enough. Now they think I was only wearing a breast band and knickers?'' 

''I... Don't think a breast band is mentioned in that story.'' Ari smiled, making Lydia bark out a laugh. 

''So the Stormcloak army believes that I fought off an Imperial patrol with my tits out?'' Arva rubbed her eyes with a sigh. ''Excellent. Any more?'' 

''Apparently, you once punched an Imperial captain so hard in the stomach that his head exploded.'' 

''I think I'd remember something like that, not true.'' 

''I think we can make a game out of this.'' Lydia interjected. ''If the story is true, no matter how far from the truth it's become, Arva drinks. If it's completely false, we take a drink.'' 

''Dangerous game for both parties because there's a lot of stories.'' Ari said. ''I'm in.'' 

''I have a feeling that I'm not going to have any dignity left by the end of tonight.'' Arva said, then held her hand up for the inkeep to bring another round of drinks. ''I'm in.'' 

''Okay, here's one to start with.'' Lydia began. ''It is said that you've taken a vow of...'' 

''No, false, stop talking.'' Arva said quickly. 

''I haven't heard this one.'' Ari said, amusement and curiosity lining her words at Arva's quick response. 

''Oh this one is great.'' Lydia grinned. ''Arva has taken a vow of celibacy before the gods, swearing to save her maidenhood for whomever defeats her in battle. Only they may take her innocence.'' Ari burst out laughing at this, joined by Lydia as Arva scowled at them. 

''I swear, one of these days I will track down that bard and feed him his lute.'' She growled, making Ari laugh louder. When she sobered up, she took a long swig of her drink and took a deep breath as the inkeep made his way over with a tray of drinks.

''You planning to keep this noise up?'' He asked as he set the tray down. ''People prefer peace and quiet around these parts.'' Arva looked at him for a moment before throwing a large coin purse in the air. The inkeep caught it, and his eyes widened at the weight. 

''Drinks for the rest of the night.'' Arva said, and he nodded quickly before retreating. 

''Just how rich are you?'' Ari asked. 

''I have enough to get by.'' Arva shrugged. 

''Uh huh.'' Ari raised an eyebrow at the vague answer. ''Are you really an innocent maiden?'' She grinned.

''No. Next story.'' 

''Once you chopped a bandit's head clean off by throwing your shield at him.'' Ari said, and Arva surprised her by drinking. ''No way.'' 

''It wasn't a clean amputation. We tracked down a bandit clan, horrible fuckers who raped and murdered their way across half the rift. Anyway, the last one was running away and I didn't have a bow so I threw my shield at him.'' 

''That's putting it lightly.'' Lydia said, then turned to Ari. ''She used her dragon aspect shout during the fight, so it made her incredibly strong. When she threw her shield it was like it was launched out of a catapult.''

''It was only a few meters, nothing too impressive.'' Arva shrugged. ''Next.'' 

* * *

''Ari?'' Arva slurred heavily. 

''Yeah?'' The mage responded, in a similar state herself. Their game had been forgotten after getting them sufficiently drunk. Their conversations had moved on to more casual topics, such as common interests. Lydia had been horrified to discover that Ari was a bookworm like Arva, and had been forced to sit there while they chatted excitedly about books for an hour.

''Help a girl out?'' She motioned to the drinks tray nearby, the last orders sent out by the inkeep. Both women were too cozy to move.

''I'm not sure I can walk that far.'' Ari rolled her head towards Arva, hair falling to one side. ''You get them.'' Lydia snoozed in her chair nearby, Ragnar draped across her feet. 

''My legs won't work.'' Arva shook her head. ''Use some what's it called... Clairvoo, clairvoovoo, clarivoyanny... Floaty magic!'' 

''There's no way I could without spilling them.... Or burning the place down.'' Ari said sadly, then looked over at Lydia. ''She's wiped out.'' 

''She spends every waking minute worrying about me. It usually takes a lot of drink for her to finally relax, then by that point she's asleep.''

''She's too hard on herself. It's not like you need protecting anyway.''

''I've been trying to get that through her thick skull since the day I met her. We butted heads a lot in the early days, I left her behind a lot. Somehow we managed to start liking each other though.'' 

''You became best friends?'' Ari grinned, looking back to Arva who scowled at her for a second before softening. 

''Aye, best friends.'' She admitted. ''But don't let tell her I said that, I'll never hear the end of it.''

''Lips sealed.'' Ari chuckled. ''But i'm sure she wouldn't react that badly if you said it to her.'' 

''Are you kidding? She still brings up the time when we managed to sit in the same room for five minutes and not start arguing. Imagine if she finds out I think she's my closest friend, I'll have to fling myself from the throat of the world.''

 


	14. Guess who’s back

Demiah looked up in shock when someone knocked on her shop door. She had been sorting stock for the next day late into the night so approached the door cautiously, wary of zealous Nords. 

“Demiah, you in there?” A familiar voice asked through the door. 

“Surely not.” The dark elf said quietly to herself, opening the door to come face to face with Arva. “What the...” 

“Sorry to bother you at this time.” The Nord woman said apologetically. “And I can’t rightly ask you this, but we need a place to lie low.” Demiah looked past her to see Lydia and Ari, Ragnar between them. 

“Of course.” Demiah stepped to the side to allow the three women through, Ragnar following. She closed the door to the cold night air and turned to Arva. 

“Thanks.” The Nord smiled, pulling the hood of her cloak down and running a hand through her hair. 

“I thought you’d left the city?” Demiah asked, slightly taken back by the Dragonborn’s sudden appearance. 

“We did. Spent a day in Winterhold, got a little bit drunk.” She shrugged. 

“That’s putting it lightly.” Lydia muttered, and Ari laughed quietly. 

“Thanks for the cloaks by the way.” Arva said. 

“My pleasure. You did save the city after all.” Demiah said as she lead them to the rear of the store, where they sat at a work table. Ari and Lydia remained by the door, peering out of the boarded window. 

“What’s going on?” The elf asked. 

“Oh, Ulfric’s spies followed us to Winterhold. They think we’re still there.” Arva explained. “I’m going to walk into the palace tomorrow morning and have breakfast at the great table, give him the shock of his life.” 

“I see.” Demiah raised an eyebrow. “And Ulfric will be annoyed by this?” 

“Definitely.” 

“Then by all means, stay the night.” Demiah sat back, grinning. “Any opportunity to ruffle the Jarl’s feathers shouldn’t be ignored.” 

“Thanks Demiah.” Arva smiled, putting a coin pouch on the table. “That should cover the cloaks with interest.” 

“They’re a gift for saving the city.” The elf tried to refuse. 

“Please take it Demiah.” Arva insisted gently. “I know things are rough around here, and I’ve got more money than I know what to do with.” 

“If that’s the case...” Demiah picked up the pouch, slightly startled by the weight. “The roof could do with a few repairs.” 

“And maybe get some new windows with bars over them, so people can see your stock.” Arva deposited another pouch on the table. 

“How much money do you have?” Demiah’s jaw dropped.

“Too much, I’d rather see it put to good use.” Arva said. “You’re amazing at making clothes, why aren’t you working in Solitude?” 

“It’s a long story.” Demiah said. 

“I understand.” Arva nodded. “Well, I’d better turn in for the night. We’re okay sleeping rough.” 

“In that case, I bid you good night.” Demiah stood. _‘In the space of two minutes I’ve earned enough money to fix the roof and the windows. Might have to start giving out free cloaks more often.’_

* * *

Ulfric had a headache, a great start to the morning. A persistent, dull ache in the base of his skull that only grew the longer Arva was absent. The nobility were beginning to grow restless, whispering to each other constantly. 

_‘Where is the Dragonborn?’_

_‘Has she abandoned Ulfric’s cause?’_

_‘He doesn’t hold enough sway on his own, If she doesn’t support him he’s finished.’_

The chatter only ever grew worse. Ulfric knew that the nobles were a fickle lot, and without powerful figures beside him he would lose their support. Dawn meant that the palace was virtually empty apart from some of the kitchen staff and the guards. He entered the main hall with a hand over his eyes, willing the ache in his skull to reside so he could enjoy some breakfast. 

The kitchen always provided, filling the great table with food every morning without fail. He treasured this time, the early morning before any problems had woken up. Just him, a hearty breakfast of broth, bread and a cup of relaxing tea that was prepared for him personally by the chef. Alone.

Ulfric stopped dead when he saw Arva sat at the table. 

“Word of advice.” She said, taking a sip of tea. His tea. Ulfric’s eye twitched slightly. “You should fire your spymaster.” She took a bite out of some bread after soaking it in broth. His broth. “And all of your spies.” 

“Dragonborn.” Ulfric said wearily. “It is good to see that you have returned.” 

“Yeah, and I returned in secret so you couldn’t plan a big gathering like last time.” Arva shrugged, then took another bite of bread. “Gods, give the chef a raise, this broth is amazing.” 

“I’m glad it is prepared to your satisfaction.” He managed. _‘Of all the times, of all the dishes...’_

“So, I’ve been hearing a few things.” Arva began, then frowned at him. “Are you going to sit or just stand there?” 

“I will stand, there is much work to be done.” Ulfric said, trying to take the upper hand. If he sat, he lost. 

“ _Right_.” Arva said knowingly. “Anyway, I hear that I’ve got a few _admirers_ after the dragon incident.” She said the word distastefully. “And it’s in your best interest to keep them away from me.” 

“I cannot control how they feel.” Ulfric crossed his arms. 

“Oh, I know that. This has happened once before, do you know how I stopped it?” 

“How?” 

“I broke a man’s jaw.” Arva said, her mouth filled with bread. “Then people got the message pretty clear.”

A similar situation arose in Whiterun when she became Dragonborn, men and women seeking to better themselves swarming her with proposals. Due to her dragon side being newly awoken Arva was a mess of emotions, and her tolerance was practically non existent. One unlucky man found this out the hard way. She had been wracked with guilt for days and had endeavoured from there to keep her temper under control. 

Ulfric didn’t need to know that last part. 

“Are you saying that you are going to attack one of them?” 

“I don’t want to be swamped. I can only turn so many people down at one time, so if I’m feeling crowded I’m going to turn to the violent option.” Arva said. “It’s up to you to keep that from happening.”

“I see.” Ulfric paused. “As you likely know, there is a feast tonight. I would like you to attend.” 

“If it’s half as disastrous as the last feast I’m in for a memorable night.” She shrugged. 

“So you will attend?” 

“Yeah, so you can stop your worrying.” Arva said, waving her hand. She finished the bread, then picked up the bowl of broth and drained it completely as she stood. “Be seeing you.” She burped as she left.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment, tell me what you think. I’ve been pretty inactive over the past few months but I’m starting to update my works again.


	15. Cock fighting

Arva approached the blacksmith after leaving the Palace. Thankfully it was still too early for many people to be up, only a handful of shopkeepers setting up for the day and workers making their way to the docks. 

The forge was worked by Oengul War-Anvil and his apprentice Hermir Strong-Heart. Arva got along with them well enough, but she tried to avoid the pair as they often sang Ulfric’s praises too much for her liking. Their work was of good quality but nowhere near what Eorlund Grey-Mane could produce.

Not that she’d ever tell Oengul that. The man saw Eorlund as his rival and constantly aimed to overtake him. Lydia had left Arva’s damaged armour with them, so had decided to see if it was fixed while she had the time. When Arva reached the forge, she saw Oengul stood by his work bench organising his tools. Hermir stood stoking the fire, and smiled when she saw Arva approaching. 

“Stormblade!” The woman greeted enthusiastically, waving with one hand while she worked the fire with the other. Oengul snapped his head around and smiled. Arva couldn’t help rolling her eyes at the use of her title but thankfully they didn’t notice.

”Good to see you again Stormblade.” Oengul stepped forward and offered his hand. 

“Oengul.” Arva nodded as she shook his hand. “How’s my gear?” 

“I’ve repaired most of the damage on the armour.” The smith said. “Shield still needs some work but i’ll have it finished by tomorrow. Gave your sword a service, sharper than ever.” 

“Thanks. How much?” Arva asked. 

“Come now, you saved the city.” He shook his head and turned back towards his shop to fetch her sword. “And before you insist on paying me, I still owed you for getting me that sword.” 

“The armour was really banged up.” Hermir said, looking at Arva in awe. “I can’t believe you’re walking around. Didn’t you get thrown through a building?” 

“The building had it coming.” Arva shrugged. 

“And the shield was almost buckled beyond any repair. How can you move that arm?”  

“Like you move yours.” Arva said matter of factly. Oengul reappeared with Arva’s sword, holding it out for her. 

“Here you go.” 

“Thanks. I’ll swing by tomorrow to collect the rest.” She nodded to the pair and turned away, aiming to get back to the inn before they started spouting their love for Ulfric. 

“By the way, it’s good to see you supporting the true High King.” Oengul said. Arva didn’t respond, and just continued to walk away. 

 _‘He couldn’t even spare me for five minutes could he?’_ She thought. _‘I bet he’d marry Ulfric in a heartbeat.’_

* * *

“What are you going to do about your admirers?” Lydia asked around a mouthful of breakfast. 

“Hopefully they’ve calmed down now that I’ve been out of sight for a few days.” Arva said, holding a slice of pork above Ragnar’s head. The dog sat obediently and hadn’t taken his eyes off the meat. 

“They probably haven’t.” Lydia shrugged. 

“Yeah, I know.” Arva sighed, then smiled and offered Ragnar the pork. “Who’s a good boy?” He sucked it excitedly into his mouth with a wagging tail, not even appearing to chew the thick slice of meat. “Chew your food you idiot.”  

“All those fangs, and for what?” Lydia chuckled. 

“Waste of teeth.” Arva smiled as she ruffled his fur. “Where’s Ari?”

“She went into the gray quarter.” Lydia said. “Demiah said that the dark elves are at the bottom of any healer’s priority list so she’s taken it upon herself to heal the whole quarter.”  

“She’ll probably do it too.” Arva smiled. “So, what are we doing about this feast tonight?” 

“It’s your call. But taking the last one into account, it’s probably best to give it a miss.” 

“I know, but I’ve got to face these nobles eventually.” Arva sighed. “I’m not going to stay long.” 

“Because Vilkas will be there?” Lydia raised an eyebrow while Arva levelled a warning look at her. “What?” 

“Stop pushing.” 

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Not my fault you were giving him the doe eyes at the tower.” 

“Quiet. That’s an official order.” Arva scowled. 

“Well then it’s a good thing you officially renounced the right to give me orders isn’t it?” 

“Oh for fu...” 

* * *

Ralof was on patrol when he noticed something peculiar outside the inn. An entourage of finely dressed men was gathered outside. 

“What’s going on?” Ralof asked as he approached, but he could already guess. He knew that Arva had returned and word had obviously spread. “Everything okay?” 

“No need to trouble yourself guard.” One of the men waved his hand at Ralof. He’d spent enough time in Solitude to know that the man was an upper class Imperial who hailed from the city. “My friend here is about to claim someone’s hand.” 

“Is that so?” Ralof crossed his arms. _‘We’ll see how that goes.’_

“Yes. There’s is no need for your presence, carry on.” Another noble tried to dismiss him. 

“Oh, I’m fairly sure there is a need for my presence.” Ralof frowned down at the man. “Because that’s my friend in there.” 

“Friend or no, you have no right to interfere.” He said. 

“I’m not going to interfere. Go right ahead.” Ralof raised an eyebrow. _‘This should be good.’_

“You’ve got this Plautis.” The first man clapped his friend on the shoulder. Plautis nodded, straightening the amulet around his neck and taking a single step forward. 

“Stop!” Someone shouted, and everyone looked around to see a second entourage approaching, lead by another noble. “Take a step back worm.” 

“I was here first.” Plautis glared as the two groups faced off. 

“Enough of this.” Ralof stood between them. “Disperse.” 

“Get out of the way guard. We’re going to settle this once and for all.” 

“Settle what?” Ralof asked, perplexed. “Arva isn’t looking for marriage. She’ll say no to both of you.” 

“That’s what you believe because you’re a commoner.” Plautis scoffed. “Who doesn’t stand a chance in Oblivion with the likes of a woman such as her.” 

“Yes, why don’t you run along while we settle this the old way.” The other noble said. 

“You know what?” Ralof had heard enough. “Go right ahead.” He moved from between the groups and made his way towards the inn, the sounds of the fight breaking out behind him. _‘I bet Arva will want to watch this.’_  


	16. Ultimatum

''What's all the racket?'' Arva frowned and looked up from her cup of herbal tea as the sounds of a fight could be heard outside. Several men were shouting abuse. 

''Shaping up to be a fun morning.'' Lydia yawned and stretched in her chair. 

''Let me finish my drink, then we'll go and see.'' Arva leaned back in her chair and took a sip, just as Ralof entered and made his way over. 

''Arva.'' He smiled, almost apologetically. 

''Sounds like a fight out there.'' She raised an eyebrow at him. ''Shouldn't you be breaking it up?'' 

''Some men are settling their differences, seems wrong to interrupt.'' He said. “I expect the winner will be approaching you shortly.” 

''Really?'' Arva groaned and closed her eyes. ''I didn't think i'd have to face any of these idiots yet.''

''I'm going to watch.'' Lydia stood quickly and made for the door.

''I'll go and make sure it doesn't get out of hand.'' Ralof said, following Lydia as Arva put her head on the table and groaned. Lydia waited at the door, and they left the inn together and stared at the mess before them in equal parts disbelief and amusement. The nobles before them rolled around on the floor, biting, scratching and slapping each other senseless. A guard patrol who had responded to the incident stood watching, making wagers. 

“Never fear folks, the Stormcloaks are here for your protection.” Lydia muttered sarcastically. 

“Not really much for entertainment around here.” Ralof shrugged as the two ringleaders traded weak punches. 

“I don’t know if I’m feeling amusement or pity.” Lydia raised an eyebrow at the carnage. “I’m going with pity.” She said after a moment. 

“Aye.” Ralof agreed, then gestured to the other guards and nodded towards the scrapping men. They groaned slightly but otherwise obeyed, moving in to break the fight up. The nobles were eventually separated into their two groups after a great deal of cursing, and stood glaring at each other through the wall of guards. “Now, got it out of your system?” Ralof addressed them. 

“This was none of your concern.” One of them spat. 

“Quiet, or you’ll be spending the moot in a cell.” Ralof’s voice had risen in volume and hardened significantly. “You’ve had your fun, now scatter. I’ll remember your faces, so if this happens again you’ll find a squad of guards outside your door who’ll escort you to the nearest mine for manual labor. Clear?” 

“Yes.” One of the ringleaders said, face slightly pale. 

“Good.” Ralof turned to the guards. “Make sure they get back to their accommodation without any more trouble.” The troops nodded, then split up and took the groups in opposite directions. 

“Well, color me impressed.” Arva said from behind him. Ralof turned to see her leaning against the doorway with a raised eyebrow. “They shat themselves.” 

“Enjoy the show?” 

“Could have let them go on for a little longer.” She shrugged. “But i'm not one to complain when nobles get slapped about.'' 

“You’ll have to face them eventually.” 

“I know.” She sighed. “Going to be a long night.” 

''How do you want to play it tonight?'' Lydia chipped in.

''I'll just go on my own, you stay here with Ragnar.'' Arva said, and when Lydia opened her mouth to protest she raised a hand. ''Don't even start, just do what I ask. I'm not staying long.''

''Fine.'' The housecarl sighed reluctantly. 

* * *

''Why are you going on your own?'' Lydia asked later that evening, leaning against Arva's door frame with crossed arms. Ragnar sat beside the housecarl, licking her boot.

''You know how it is, they'll start using you to try and get to me.'' Arva stood in front of a mirror, wearing the same blue tunic as last time. Since she was hardly present for more than ten minutes at the last feast she assumed that she could get away with wearing the same outfit twice. Her hair, usually left loose, was pulled into a long braid which fell over her shoulder.

''Good luck to them. I don't agree with you going in alone.'' 

''Lydia, if it bothers you so much you can stand outside with Ragnar.'' 

''Fine.'' Lydia sighed. ''Hoot three times and i'll knock the doors down and ride to the rescue.'' 

* * *

Vilaks despised social events. He and Farkas had been invited out of recognition for assisting Arva, and had agreed to attend to uphold the good name of the Companions. Yet he had a limit which he was fast approaching, and he could sense Farkas having similar thoughts beside him. The brothers stood near the edge of the crowd, wearing plain tunics and scanning the guests. The doors of the hall stood open, and a steady trickle of guests slowly filled the hall. Thanes, influential people, nobles from Skyrim and abroad. 

''Arva isn't here.'' Farkas said. 

''Mmhm.'' Vilkas nodded. 

''So why are we still here?'' 

''What?'' Vilkas frowned at his larger sibling. 

''That's why we're here, isn't it?'' Farkas responded, winking at a pair of passing ladies who giggled and whispered to each other as they moved past. 

''We're here because we were invited. We have a reputation to uphold.'' 

''Sureee.'' Farkas rolled his eyes. “We’re here because you can’t leave without seeing or speaking to Arva again.” 

“You’re wrong, we’re finished. Now shut up.” Vilkas growled lowly while casting his gaze back towards the doors just in time to spot Arva arrive, and his breath caught slightly. She wore her blue tunic again, but for the first time that he could recall her hair was pulled into a braid over her shoulder.

“She’s here, we could leave now.” Farkas said, raising an eyebrow at Vilkas pointedly. “Or are you sure you’re finished with her?”

“Fine damn you, enough.” Vilkas sighed. Farkas grinned victoriously as Ulfric called out to the guests. 

“Friends, welcome.” The Jarl began as the doors were closed to hold the heat in the room. Arva quickly scanned the hall, then met Vilkas’ eyes. They held each other’s gaze for several seconds before a woman next to Arva whispered in her ear, and she looked towards her irritably. Vilkas refocused on the Jarl, who was giving a short speech about the dragon attack and the bravery displayed by Arva and the Stormcloaks. “To Arva, the Dragonborn.” He raised his cup, and most of the hall followed suite. “A hero of Skyrim.” The hall broke out in applause, and Vilkas looked towards Arva again. Unsurprisingly she wasn’t thrilled with the attention, and stood with crossed arms and a tight jaw. “Break open the casques, bring in the food, tonight we celebrate a free Skyrim!” A cheer ran through the hall as the guests began to mingle. 

“Catch up with you later?” Farkas asked while eyeing up the two women from earlier, who stood nearby smiling at him. 

“Oh, now you want to stay?” Vilkas rolled his eyes. “Go ahead, just don’t let them pillage your coin purse like the last girl.” 

“Never going to drop that one are you?” Farkas scowled. 

“Not when I warned you before hand, no.” Vilkas shrugged. Farkas shook his head slightly before setting off towards the waiting ladies, and what he said to them was lost in the noise of the crowd as Vilkas looked around the room. He spotted Arva quickly, as she had a small crowd around her. From what he could make out, several people were all trying to talk to her at once. 

_‘That should end well.’_

* * *

Arva couldn’t understand a word anyone was saying. She had been swamped instantly by at least thirty men and women, their attempts to get her attention blending into a mass of confusion and noise that was quickly giving her a headache. 

“Slow down.” Arva said, holding up one hand and pinching the bridge of her nose with the other. _‘Knew it would end up like this.’_ She thought sullenly, then removed the hand from her nose when the noise quietened slightly. “Just stop, alright?” She adressed the crowd. “Can’t even hear myself think.” Arva pointed to the nearest man, who wore an amulet of Mara around his neck. “No.” 

“But...” He tried to protest. 

“No.” She looked around, looking for anybody else wearing an amulet. Alarmingly, around eight men and five women were. “Whatever you've got to say, I’m not interested. If anyone comes up to me with an amulet, or tries to gossip, or tries to ask about the war, I’ll just blank you. In short, I just don’t care. Now, is that clear?” Stunned silence met her casual dismissal. “I’ll take that as a yes. Goodnight.” She made her way through the crowd, hopeful that they got the message. 

“Don’t worry.” She heard a man say to his friend. “She’s just playing hard to get.” Her shoulders sagged slightly. 

“So fierce.” A woman said. “I bet she’s an animal in the sheets.” 

“No you fool, haven’t you heard?” Her friend said. “She’s a maiden. Only someone who defeats her may lay with her...” 

 _‘I am going to find that bard, and feed him to Odahviing.’_ Arva thought seriously. Putting the excitable group behind her, she made her way towards the other end of the hall, where the more serious nobles discussed politics and alliances. She spotted the Jarls of Falkreath and Riften talking, while Ulfric spoke to the Jarl of Markarth.

Deciding to stay well away from any politics, she grabbed a mug of ale from a nearby tray and found a quiet place to lean on the wall at the edge of the hall. Ulfric had obviously pulled some strings as per her request, as it appeared she was being left alone for the most part. She’d had to deal with the more excitable nobles by herself, but Ulfric was keeping the majority of the attention on himself. 

Farkas walked past her with two women, an arm wrapped around each as they made their way out of the hall. She smiled lightly at the sight, shaking her head. 

 _‘Same old Farkas.’_ Arva thought. _‘Wait, if Farkas is with them, where’s Vilkas?’_ Summarising that he’d be in a solitary position such as her own, she scanned the walls and corners, spotting him near the doors. He stood with a drink in hand, scowling as a drunk man tried to spark up a conversation with him. 

After a moments hesitation she began walking towards him. When she drew close, grey eyes snapped up to meet blue. Arva stood slightly awkwardly as the drunk rambled on about “Those bastard Elves” and “Those damned lizards” in Vilkas’ ear. 

“Get lost.” Vilkas said to him. The drunk frowned, then looked around and saw Arva stood there. He gulped slightly and retreated, hunting for someone else to rant to. Vilkas then met Arva’s eyes again, silence hanging between them.

“Interesting company.” Arva broke the silence. 

“Hmm. Could say the same for you.” He nodded behind her, and she turned to see the excitable group of nobles watching her interaction with interest. 

“Yeah.” She sighed and looked away from them. Silence again. 

“Why did you come back?” He asked after a moment. “You had the opportunity to leave like you wanted to. Why come here tonight?” 

“I could ask you the same question.” Arva replied. “What’s made you come to a social event, something you can’t stand?” 

“You know why.” He said, looking at her intensely. 

“I guess I do.” She held his gaze, feeling one of her walls come down slightly. How she left was wrong, he deserved an explanation, but where would it lead? Why reopen old wounds? 

Vilkas saw the slight change in her eyes as she debated internally. Uncertainty and something he wasn’t used to seeing in Arva. Fear. 

“Why did you leave Arva?” He asked softly. She looked up at him, searching for something in his face. 

“Know that I had no choice.” Arva said. 

“No choice?” He frowned. “There’s always a choice.” 

“Vilkas.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t want to open old wounds. You should just go back to Jorrvaskr and forget about me, be happy with someone else.” He saw the walls go back up behind her eyes. 

“Damnit woman, there is no one else.” Vilkas said forcefully, and her eyes widened slightly. “I know you. If you believed in not wanting to open old wounds, you wouldn’t have come here in the first place. If you wanted me to forget you, you wouldn’t have talked to me tonight. You say you left for a reason, and looked afraid bringing it up.” 

“You don’t understand.” 

“Then help me damnit.” He stepped in closer slightly. Arva didn’t retreat. 

“Vilkas...” She whispered, then stopped and closed her eyes. “You were all in danger. You still are.” 

“Danger from what?” He asked quietly. 

“What do you want from this?” She opened her eyes once again. “You could have gone back to Whiterun. Found somebody else. Lived your life. Why are you pushing for this?” 

“Because I loved you.” Her eyes widened. “And I just realised I still do.” 

“I...” Her tongue froze as she stared up at him. How he longed to close the gap and claim her lips, but stopped himself. 

“I’m staying in the Kynesgrove inn. You can either meet me there in an hour and tell me the truth, or leave me to return to Whiterun.” He said, then made for the door. _‘An ultimatum is the only way. She’ll either come clean, or I’ll never see her again.’_ He tried and failed to ignore how much the last thought hurt.  


End file.
